


The Art of Domination

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alistair is a Giant Dick, Alternate Universe- BDSM is Normal; Sub!Lucifer, Bondage, Bottom!Lucifer, CoWorkers to Friends to Lovers, Collars, Crowley is also a Dick, Dom!Sam, Domestic Violence, F/F, F/M, Fake Dom!Lucifer, Genderfluid!Raphael, Hate Towards Submissives, M/M, Mentioned domestic abuse, Multi, Polyamorous!Balthazar, Romance, Similar to ABO except it's Dominants Switches Submissives, Top!Sam, Virgin!Lucifer, aro!Michael, crops, mentioned underage, questionable medical procedures, tw self harm, very briefly mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 07:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 59,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: In a world of Dominants, Switches, and Submissives, Lucifer Alighieri is a man with a secret. He feels shame about his true presentation of Submissive and hides it under a confident yet overcompensating Dominant persona. He vows never to give in to his presentation and to be like his older brother Michael, an eternal bachelor. That is, until Michael hires Sam Winchester. At first wary of the Dominant, Lucifer soon teams up with Sam, Michael, and a paralegal to unravel a nasty secret that Dr. Alistair Picasso, one of Lucifer's clients, and Fergus Crowley, a former employee of Lucifer's, share before learning that just because he was Submissive doesn't make him any less of a man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! The longest fic I have ever written solo, and my fill for the Samifer Big Bang!! This is probably one of my favorite fics that I've ever written. 
> 
> Special thanks to my betas @trisscar368, @spnyoucantkeepmedown, and @platonicrabbit, who luckily understand that I'm insane. 
> 
> Special thanks to my artist, @purrfectmochi!! View her art here: https://purrfectmochi.tumblr.com/post/166053901683/here-are-my-pieces-for-the-samifer-big-bang-2017

Lucifer sighed as he entered his apartment after a long day at work. Closing the door and locking it, he tore the trademark ice blue tie away from his neck and unbuttoned the top four buttons, revealing a lightly tanned chest and the thick black collar he was required to wear as an unclaimed Submissive. He should be switching to a blue collar soon, stating his intention to remain unclaimed and wholly independent. 

It honestly didn’t matter what the color of his collar was at Alighieri and Sons. What mattered was that he  _ had  _ a collar. 

Lucifer, the second oldest of the Alighieri family, was expected to be a Dominant. Michael had turned out to be Dominant, as usual, and they had been eager for the same to be bestowed upon Lucifer when he turned sixteen. It was a shock, therefore, when instead of puffing out his chest like a puffer fish and putting his hand out for the family crop, he began rubbing his neck in earnest, looking positively distressed . When Michael had placed their mother’s collar around his neck, he had calmed down briefly before realizing what this meant, and bursting into tears. 

It was Michael who insisted that Lucifer be treated no differently than, at most, a Switch.  _ Lucifer may be a submissive _ , the eighteen year old had said, keeping his arms around a sobbing Lucifer, _ but that doesn’t mean that his intelligence and edge should be wasted.  _ Indeed, Lucifer was a better debater than his older brother, something needed at the law firm. Their father, Charles, agreed. 

Lucifer never showed his collar to anyone except for his family and the family doctor. He kept it hidden underneath high collared shirts and ties, and he overpostured to everyone. On paperwork, when it asked for his presentation, he checked “prefer not to say”. When asked about this once, he shot them a look that spoke volumes, that told of a man not to be crossed, and said simply that presentation isn’t everything. 

The only person he would ever bare his throat to was Michael, and only then, in private, in the safety of Michael’s corner office or in his apartment; and Michael never took advantage of his brother’s submissive behavior when it occurred.

Lucifer finished sliding off his shirt and began making himself a drink. He was halfway through making his nightly gin and tonic when Michael called. 

“Hey, Lucifer, I’ve got some bad news,” Michael said sympathetically. 

“Did Father finally go insane and decide to order me to go through a program for Submissives who are having difficulty submitting?” Lucifer asked dryly. 

“No, thank God for that,” Michael said. “You have a new hire. Fresh from Stanford.” 

“Does he know how to debate?” 

“Yes, very well-” 

“Then I don’t care, Michael,” Lucifer stated as he poured the drink. 

Michael sighed. “He’s a Dominant, Luce.”

Lucifer growled softly, as his hackles raised. “The contract  _ clearly states _ -” 

“That the  _ best fit  _ for your personality would be the only ones allowed in your department,” Michael finished with a sigh. “I reminded him of the last Dominant that he tried hiring for you. . . what was his name?” 

“Fergus,” Lucifer spat the name before taking a large drink. “Fergus Crowley. He nearly brought  _ my  _ portion of the firm down until we transferred him to Balthazar’s department! He nearly _ exposed  _ me!” 

“I know,” Michael said patiently. “Father says he’s on a two month trial. If he does  _ anything  _ like what Fergus did, he’ll be transferred immediately to Raphael’s department.” 

Lucifer growled. 

“Lucifer,” Michael said softly, a thin edge behind his name. 

“Tell Father fine, but if this goes topside and I’m exposed, or come anywhere near it, he’s going to pay for every single damage that it incurs,” Lucifer snapped. 

“I don’t doubt that, but calm down, Lucifer,” Michael murmured soothingly. He understood his brother’s concern, and shared it, but he had to play mediator because of Lucifer’s temper. “Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly.” 

“Are you trying to Dom me, Michael?” Lucifer asked harshly. 

Michael took a deep breath of his own. “I’m merely trying to calm you down, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, and your blood pressure is already up high enough as it is.” 

Lucifer took a few deep breaths and calmed down. “When does he start?” 

“Monday. Father’s giving you the weekend off, as well.” Michael kept his tone low and soothing. 

“What is his name?” 

“Sam Winchester.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day at the office leads to some interesting details.

Lucifer woke up Friday morning grumpy. He normally was in the mornings, considering his alarm went off at 4:30 AM. Hitting the off button, he tugged the collar so the clasp was in the back, the small silver chain trailing along his spine, before padding over nude to his closet and pulling out a dark blue suit and a cream colored shirt. Pulling an ice blue tie off the rack of its siblings, he threw the garments over his arm and grabbed a pair of black silk boxers before shuffling off to shower. 

In the bathroom, he tore the collar off his neck and set it on the sink. Groaning at the sight of bags under his eyes, he turned away from the mirror and put the shower on as hot as it would go. 

He did everything in the shower. Washed his body and his hair, shaved his face, even brushed his teeth. Finishing, he came out of the shower and pulled the towel right off the heater, groaning happily at the warmth. 

Drying off and wrapping the towel loosely around his hips, he walked over and began moisturizing his face, making sure to put plenty where his collar would lay over his neck. The leather may be the highest quality that money could buy, but it still chafed. He then put his aftershave on, sighing happily as the scent of lemons and oranges hit his nose. 

He raised his face and looked at himself in the mirror. “You can do this,” he said out loud. “You are a Dominant. You are an Alighieri. You are a Dominant Alighieri. You do not back down easily. You strike obedience into everyone’s hearts. The crop is your companion; not the collar. Dominance in all things; submission in none.” 

Tearing himself away from the sink and the mirror, he abandoned his collar in the bathroom to get dressed. He knew he was going to push himself yet again, push himself to not need the collar, not desire the collar, but he didn’t care. 

The collar was simply wrong. Sure, he didn’t mind it when Michael managed to coax him to his knees and breathe, but it wasn’t  _ pleasant. _ He didn’t see the hype in submitting. 

He got dressed and left his shirt unbuttoned as he made his coffee and breakfast of two eggs, two slices of toast, and two sausages. 

The desire to rub his neck began and he looked over at the microwave clock as he took a huge sip of coffee. Fifteen minutes since he took it off, a new record. Normally it was thirteen. Smiling to himself, he made a mark on his calendar, a plus sign, before returning to eating his breakfast. 

_ Thirty minutes _ . There was a thin line of sweat on Lucifer’s brow as he washed and dried his breakfast dishes, but that was the only outward appearance that he needed the damn piece of leather around his neck. 

_ Thirty-five minutes _ . The headache started and he groaned, trudging back to the bathroom and sliding the collar onto his neck and doing the clasp. He made sure it was neatly pressed against his throat and that the chain was aligned on his spine. Just because no one sees it, he figured, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have to be perfect. 

He buttoned his shirt all the way up and flipped the collar up so he could slide on the tie. Tying on a trinity knot, he turned his collar down and used a silver tie clip before slipping into the dark blue suit jacket. 

He looked at himself in the mirror again, scowling at his reflection. He looked so much better with the collar on, and he  _ hated  _ it. 

He left the bathroom and put on his shoes and socks before heading out into the living room. He packed up his briefcase and laid a gentle hand on the crop laying next to it. 

Crops were a symbol of a Dominant’s power, much like a Submissive’s collar was a symbol of submission. Being separated from it for long periods of time would cause distress to Dominants. 

Lucifer’s known people who had felt that being a Submissive or a Dominant was a mistake on biology’s part. They’d present as one, but typically around the age of twenty, something flipped and they became the other. They weren’t true Switches, who didn’t care if they were Dominant or Submissive, they just  _ were.  _ It was as if the body had realized that it fucked up and would turn the tables.

Lucifer had hoped for such a switch, had hoped that on his twentieth birthday he’d be clawing at Michael’s hip for his crop and crying out for one of his own. There was no such luck in store for him. He was a Submissive; biology made no mistakes when it came to him. 

He attached the crop to the clip on his belt, smiling to himself before heading out of his apartment and down the stairs to his car. 

Michael rang and Lucifer answered it while he was at a red light. “Yes?” 

“Doing okay?” Michael asked. It wasn’t unusual for him to call in the mornings, see what Lucifer’s mindset was like. 

“Up to thirty five minutes without,” Lucifer reported. 

“Good job,” Michael commented without judging him, even with a hint of pride in his voice. Lucifer beamed as he prepared to drive through the now green light. “Now, the Picasso family will be showing up today to make sure everything is okay with their will, with the advent of their oldest being a Submissive.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes, glad his father was a bit more progressive in the idea of Submissives having some form of independence. “Alright.” 

“I’ll be sending you Sam Winchester’s file around noon so you can prepare yourself,” Michael continued. “And I need one of your men on the Azazel case.” 

Lucifer nodded. “Alright, thank you, Michael,” he said courteously. They were used to this. 

“How’s your headspace?” Michael asked. 

“Peachy,” Lucifer said. “Make sure my coffee is made, I’m about five minutes away.” 

“Will do.” The line went dead and Lucifer tossed his phone onto the seat beside him before he signaled the right turn to Alighieri and Sons Law Firm.

He found his reserved parking space and took a deep breath. He ran a hand along his crop, smiling down at it before grabbing his briefcase and phone. Tucking his phone in his inner pocket, he put on his game face and opened his door, stepping out of his car and heading inside.

“Good morning, Mr. Alighieri,” Meg Masters greeted him instantly, the Submissive smiling pleasantly. 

“Morning, Meg,” he said with a tense smile. “Coffee?” 

She handed him his coffee and he took a sip, nodding in approval. “Are the Picassos here?” 

“They just called, there’s construction on the highway, they’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” she reported, looking at her phone. 

“Good. Michael will be sending a file at noon, bring it to me no later than two, and please send my youngest brother to see me in my office, I’ll be assigning him a case.” 

“Which case?” she asked as they walked to his corner office. Legal aides and younger lawyers ducked out of sight upon seeing “El Diablo”.

“The Azazel case.” 

“Grand larceny, stole a very rare pistol or something like that?” Meg recalled. 

“Amongst other things,” Lucifer said blandly. 

“I’ll send Clarence in after you’re done with the Picassos,” she promised. 

“Have you made a move on him, yet, by the way? The heartfelt looks are sickening,” Lucifer lamented. 

She gave him a sarcastic smile as she opened the door for him. “Not yet. I think the unicorn’s confused.” 

Lucifer smirked. “More fun for me. Please page me when the Picassos are here,” he requested. 

“Will do, Sir,” she said. 

He nodded at her in dismissal and went to his desk. Logging onto his computer, he pulled up his email and answered about four of them concerning legal questions. 

“The Picassos are here, ETA one minute, forty nine seconds,” Meg paged. 

“Thank you, Miss Masters, please send them in when they reach you,” Lucifer paged back, printing off the Picassos’ will and straightening his tie. 

 

Dr. Alastair Picasso and his wife, Tessa Picasso, had set up an appointment with Lucifer to rewrite their will, now that their oldest had presented as a Submissive. It was clear that they weren’t happy about this. Or, at the very least, Alastair wasn’t happy. Lucifer wasn’t sure what Tessa’s true feelings on that matter were. The Picassos tended to be highly conservative when it came to. . .Well, everything. 

“Now, what will you do if he presents as Submissive as well?” Lucifer asked as he looked everything over, red pen between his index and middle finger. 

The two looked at each other uncomfortably. Alastair gave an incline of his head, indicating his permission for Tessa to speak. “Well, I guess it’d go to our nephew,” Tessa said with a sigh. The blood-red collar on her throat, with the pendant indicating that she was Alastair’s, bobbed uneasily. 

“You have a daughter, do you not?” Lucifer asked pointedly. 

“She’ll be a Submissive,” Alastair said dismissively. “Women always are.” 

Lucifer raised an elegant eyebrow. “My own sister is a Dominant, and perfectly capable of taking the job,” he said. “She rivals me and my older brother in aggression and has a wonderful Submissive of her own.” 

Alastair chuckled, leaning in and disturbing the neat row of pens on Lucifer’s desk. “I like you, Lucifer,” he said in an oily voice, one that made the Submissive internally shiver. His outward face, however, showed no emotion. 

“Well, that’s good, considering I’m your lawyer, Dr. Picasso,” Lucifer said blandly. He got up and made his way to the copier, stroking a hand along his crop. 

“Beautiful crop,” Alastair admired.

“Thank you,” Lucifer replied shortly. He hated people commenting on other people’s crops. Or collars. He wished it didn’t matter. 

“Italian leather?” Alastair pressed. 

“Of course,” Lucifer sniffed, starting to posture. “I am an Alighieri, after all.” He returned from the copier and handed the copied will, with the alterations marked in red, to Alastair. “Please look over this and book another appointment with Miss Masters on your way out, so we may finalize it once more and I can put it on file.” 

“Of course, Mr. Alighieri. Always a pleasure being under Alighieri and Sons,” Alastair simpered. 

Lucifer simply offered his hand to shake with a firm, polite smile. “And a pleasure to be serving the Picasso family for the past three generations, Doctor,” he said with a voice that said  _ get the fuck out of my office.  _

Alastair smirked and snapped his fingers, indicating that Tessa could stand. She smiled. “Thank you for serving my husband and I,” she said politely. 

“The pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Picasso,” Lucifer said with a polite incline of his head before watching them walk away. If it weren’t illegal, Lucifer knew that Alastair would have Tessa on a leash, walking her about like she was a prized, purebred show dog. Taking a deep breath, he sat back down in his seat and filed the Picassos’ will away on his computer and in his file folder, straightening the pens on his desk after Alastair had messed them up. 

 

It was two hours later when Castiel Alighieri walked into Lucifer’s office. More accurately, the office  _ door.  _

Lucifer couldn’t help the snicker that issued passed his pale pink lips as Castiel squinted at the door, Meg hiding behind a file folder to hide her giggling before he opened the door and entered his office. 

“Hey there, baby brother,” Lucifer greeted with a smile. “Have a seat. There are a couple of things I want to discuss with you.”

“Of course, Lucifer,” Castiel said, sitting down in front of his second favorite big brother. He stroked the crop idly in his hands, and Lucifer gave a knowing look. 

“How has your day been?” Lucifer asked, reaching into his desk drawer to draw out a mint. 

“Decent. I think Miss Masters is flirting with me,” Castiel said with a frown of thoughtfulness. 

“That’s because she is, Castiel,” Lucifer chuckled. He drew out a second mint and passed it to Castiel, who took it and unwrapped it before popping it into his mouth. “She would do well as your Submissive, Castiel. She has the snark that I know you crave.” 

“Bite me,” Castiel said blandly around his mint. 

Lucifer chuckled. “I’m sure she would, if you commanded her to.” 

Castiel arched his eyebrow, into what the family had nicknamed the ‘Dom eyebrow’. He knew it wouldn’t have an effect on his older, yet Submissive brother. Lucifer was immune to the Dom eyebrow and simply mocked it with one of his own. 

“Surely, Castiel, you know better than to give me that look.” Lucifer’s smile was wicked as he slipped the mint almost seductively through his teeth. 

Castiel sighed. “Maybe one of these days it will work. Being Submissive doesn’t have to be a foreign concept,” he murmured. 

“It’s not a foreign concept, I just refuse to abide by society’s rules,” Lucifer corrected. 

Castiel gave a brief smile. “I believe you would’ve made an excellent Dominant,” he said. “It is a tragedy that Fate did not agree with you.” 

“Fate, schmate, God wants us to hang ourselves with the rope he calls free will,” Lucifer said blithely. “Now. The Azazel case. Do you think you’d be up to that?” 

“That’s the grand larceny case involving the rare Colt .45, fifteen prized Michelangelo forgeries, and three hundred dollars in small bonds from a Mick Davies?” Castiel rattled off. 

“I’m impressed, little brother,” Lucifer smirked. “Yes. That’s the case. Think you can do it?” 

“Yes,” Castiel said immediately and with confidence, sitting up a little straighter in his seat.

Chuckling, Lucifer picked up the file folder on his desk and handed it to him. “All the information is there.” 

Castiel opened the folder, looking over typewritten statements and notes in Lucifer’s neat, precise handwriting. “Everything seems to be in order,” he said. 

Lucifer chuckled, giving a vicious suck on his mint. “Good. Will you consider taking Meg on a date?” he asked. 

“You know I frown on office romances,” Castiel said idly. 

“I know,” Lucifer said, “just one date, if only so she shuts up.” 

Castiel sighed. “I will consider it,” he said. 

Lucifer nodded, seeing a small victory and taking it. “Do you have any questions for me?” 

“Would you rather have me tell him to plead guilty or no contest?” Castiel asked. 

“Go over the information with him, see if there’s enough evidence to convict him. If there seems to be a lack of evidence, what’s the motto?” Lucifer asked. 

“Deny everything and demand proof,” Castiel replied automatically. 

“Good. If there isn’t, go to trial. If there is, I’d say guilty. A guilty plea sounds better than a no contest plea,” Lucifer said. “Anything else?” 

“Is Father going to try to set you up with a Dominant? Or even a Switch?” Castiel asked in a low voice. 

Lucifer sighed and ran his hand over his jaw. “Most likely not,” he admitted. “In a year or two, I will most likely switch to the blue collar.”

Castiel frowned. “Lucifer, I know you hate your presentation,” he said softly, leaning forward on Lucifer’s desk, “and I don’t fault you for that. But by making yourself seemingly unattainable, you’re doing yourself a great deal of mental and emotional harm. You work yourself to death, and while you do your best to be a good Dominant here at work, you take it to extremes sometimes. I’m concerned about you.”

Lucifer gave a tired smiled and leaned on his desk. “I know you are, and so is Michael,” he confided softly, still keeping up his Dominant persona. “But it’s not who I am. I don’t  _ want  _ to submit. It pains me when I have to admit to Michael I need to be on my knees for him. And look at me. I’m not a good fit for anyone to Dom, even if I wanted that. I’m too brash, I’m too bossy, and like Hell I want to respond to someone like they’re an authority figure. Find me a Dom who will be able to treat me like an equal and never ask me to show my submissiveness in public, who is not family, and we’ll talk.” 

Castiel seemed to hide a smile. “You’re a good man, Lucifer, Submissive or not. A Dominant may be out there for you.” 

“And they may not be.” Lucifer shrugged. “It won’t matter. This time next year, I’ll be wearing the blue collar.” 

Castiel nodded and smiled before standing up. “Thank you for the case,” he said. 

“My pleasure, baby brother,” Lucifer said warmly, standing up and shaking his brother’s hand. 

Castiel smiled and turned to leave. As he did so, Meg swiveled in her chair to greet him. Lucifer watched, although it looked like he was simply typing things up on his computer. 

“Please just ask her out on a date already,” he muttered under his breath.

Around noon, Lucifer noticed he was out of coffee. Scowling into the bottom of his mug, he stood up and made his way to the break room, intent on his caffeine mission. He should probably get something to eat, too. Michael would’ve gotten him Subway, and he smiled to himself at the thought of a nice, tasty hoagie waiting for him. Chicken bacon ranch, with provolone cheese, all the extra meat and cheese, piled high with onions, black olives, tomatoes, and he knew Michael would’ve requested more salt on his sandwich than was probably healthy, some oregano. . . 

Lawyers and legal aides scattered upon seeing ‘el Diablo’ walking towards them briskly. The only one who didn’t was Raphael, and Lucifer gave a sardonic smile as his sibling fell in step beside him. 

“Heard Azazel’s case is on Castiel’s shoulders,” the other rumbled, smoothing out the waistband of their pencil skirt slightly. 

“Castiel will do fine with the case if that’s what you’re worried about,” Lucifer said with a smile. 

“Oh I’m not worried. Castiel is an excellent lawyer, if at times a little rash,” Raphael said, giving a pearly white smile towards their older brother. 

Lucifer chuckled. “Indeed, but Castiel does well in the cases where things such as homicide aren’t involved,” he reminded them. “How are things treating you? I heard about the train incident.” 

The next smile Raphael gave was a bit colder. “Dear me, I believe that man needed a lawyer,” they said in a cool tone. 

Lucifer chuckled. “That’s my little sibling. And how is your husband?” 

Raphael beamed at the mention of their husband. “Julian is doing wonderfully,” they said. “In fact, we’re about to adopt. A young boy, age ten. Parents were killed in a fire, no other living relatives.” 

“Congratulations!” Lucifer said, laughing. “I now have another nephew to add to the brood that our brothers are giving me.”

Raphael chuckled. “And yourself?” they asked in a low voice. 

“I’m doing okay,” Lucifer said honestly. “Father helped Michael hire a new lawyer for my department. We’ll see how he holds up.” 

“I’m detecting a little bit of animosity towards this new subordinate,” Raphael murmured, the two of them pausing outside of their office. “You’re normally not this judgemental of a new hire unless they’re. . . well, of the same presentation as you.” 

Lucifer nodded. “That’s it exactly,” he said. “Young  _ and  _ a Dominant.” 

Raphael chuckled and laid a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” they assured him. “Will you be at Father’s dinner in two weeks?” 

“But of course,” Lucifer smiled.

“Our son will be attending,” Raphael said. 

“Good, I think Gabriel and Kali are bringing over their two,” Lucifer said. “Any word about Balthazar?” 

“He’s only taking one of his partners, and four of the children, I think,” Raphael hummed. “I’ll email you the list next week.”

Lucifer nodded. “Alright. Let me go get caffeine, I have that new hire’s file to look over.”

“May God protect whatever intern crosses your path today,” Raphael said with the mock solemnity of a priest. 

Lucifer rolled his eyes and patted Raphael’s shoulder. “By the way? The new suit looks good on you.”

Raphael smiled and hugged Lucifer briefly. “Thank you!” 

“Not a problem.” Lucifer hugged his sibling back before sauntering down to the breakroom, only a few yards away from Raphael’s office. 

He opened the door and was immediately greeted with philly cheesesteak on his suit and wide brown eyes. 

“Mrs. Hanscum?” Lucifer asked in a polite tone that spoke volumes. “Do you care to tell me why there is now  _ your  _ sandwich on  _ my  _ suit?” 

“It was an accident, Mr. Alighieri. Oh goodness gracious, I’m so sorry!” 

Lucifer attempted to count to ten to calm down but only made it to four. “Are you now? Or are you going to be more sorry when I tell my brother to pay you half of your wages because I’m going to need to dry clean my suit? Were you always this much of a klutz, or do you just not pay attention to opening doors?”

Donna stood there, her mouth gaping. 

“Do I look like I have time to change clothes, Mrs. Hanscum?” Lucifer went on. “I have clients to see and meetings to conduct, and  _ yet, _ I am having to change into a new suit  _ specifically  _ because some security guard ran into me. Do you have  _ any  _ idea how much valuable time that is going to cost me?”

Everyone in the break room collectively held their breath as they watched. There were a couple who slipped out of the breakroom. Lucifer paid them no mind.  

“This large inconvenience could cost me a client, or it could just continue to irritate the ever living hell out of me because if it’s one thing I  _ don’t  _ have, it’s time,” Lucifer went on to explain. “When is your break over?”

“In twenty minutes, Mr. Alighieri,” Donna said immediately.  

Lucifer smirked. “Think you can take that other philly cheesesteak in the fridge and wolf it down in about ten?” he asked. It really wasn’t that much of a question.

Donna swallowed and she nodded. 

“Good. Your break’s been cut short by ten minutes, and if you don’t move out of my way in point three seconds, it’ll be cut down by fifteen. Understand?” 

Donna moved out of the way before he even finished speaking. “Yes, Mr. Alighieri, I am so freakin’ sorry about all this.” 

“Likewise,” Lucifer snapped before making his way to the fridge. “And for all you lookin’ lollies. . . Who’s the one I need to string up from the ceiling by their toes because they’re the massive moron who placed the sugar spoon in the sugar bowl  _ with coffee on it? _ ” He brandished the offending sugar-caked spoon. 

The silence, impossibly, grew deeper, everyone looking at everyone else with accusatory glares. 

“I promise, if you just come forward, everything will be more okay than if you don’t and I have to look at the camera footage, where I already know three of you had a little  _ menage à trois  _ before work like horny teenagers. Please leave the double penetration of anuses at home, by the way,” Lucifer continued. 

There was shuffling feet and low voices, accusing other people of committing this breakroom offense. 

“Come on,” Lucifer said, unclipping the crop from his belt, hearing the intake of breath from the Submissives and the Switches who were feeling particularly subby today. The Dominants in the room just shifted uncomfortably as Lucifer stroked the leather. “I know how to use this andt I really don’t want to.” 

At the sight of the crop one of the younger lawyers stepped forward and raised his hand. “I’m sorry, I thought I had cleaned-”

Lucifer’s crop landed lightly on his cheek, stopping him in mid sentence. It wasn’t hard enough to even sting, let alone cause damage. “What is your name, and under which Alighieri do you work?” 

“S-s-s-samandriel Albertson,” the young lawyer stammered. “A-a-a-and I w-w-work for Raphael Alighieri.” 

The crop slipped underneath Samandriel’s chin, tilting it up as Lucifer observed him. The cheese sauce from Donna’s sandwich was drying rapidly on his shirt, making it more uncomfortable, but at the moment, Lucifer couldn’t care less. 

“You’re a little liar,” Lucifer breathed, trailing the crop down to Samandriel’s throat, where a collar was. “Who’s your Dominant?” 

Samandriel swallowed. “I-I-I-I’m unattached, Mr. Alighieri.” 

“You’re unattached,” Lucifer repeated softly. “So. . . Is it _ my _ imagination that there are now a set of bite marks above your. . . right ass cheek in the shape of a K, from when you were pinned to the tables earlier?” 

Samandriel turned bright red, lowering his eyes to the pseudo-Dominant, giving Lucifer the answer he needed. 

“I was going to reprimand you and your cohorts in private, Samandriel,” Lucifer murmured. “But then you had to go and lie to me. When is  _ anyone  _ in this firm going to learn I can sniff out a lie like a police dog can sniff out cocaine?” He gently smacked the crop on Samandriel’s cheek, a pink square showing up. The younger lawyer didn’t flinch, just whimpered. “Kevin Tran. Adam Milligan. Step forward.” 

The two mentioned people did as they were commanded and Lucifer surveyed them both. Kevin was a Dominant, and he was stroking his own crop’s handle, dark eyes locked on him. Adam was also a Dominant, but his stance was more lax, soothing even. 

“Two naughty Dominants with a highly naughty Submissive,” Lucifer commented with a tsk. “Who’s idea was it to fuck little Samandriel here like a two-bit whore in the break room?”

Adam raised his hand. “Mine, Mr. Alighieri.” 

“Was it also your idea to split him wide open with two rather impressive cocks?” Lucifer continued, returning his gaze to Samandriel’s dark red face. 

“Yes, Mr. Alighieri,” Adam stated. 

Kevin looked sullenly on at the scene. 

“Is he your Submissive, or are you courting him?” Lucifer pressed, raising his eyes to Kevin, invoking a challenge towards the head of the cyber crimes department. 

“No, Mr. Alighieri. Samandriel’s looking to be Kevin’s, but I have been offered a position as a third,” Adam explained. 

Lucifer smirked at Kevin. “Hence why only one of you marked him up.”

“Yes, Mr. Alighieri,” Adam said. 

“Mr. Milligan, which Alighieri are you under, or do you work under Mr. Tran?”

“I work under Michael Alighieri, Mr. Alighieri,” Adam admitted. 

Lucifer nodded. “After I leave here with my lunch,” he said softly, “You will  _ all  _ report to Michael Alighieri, and explain why you’re there. In graphic detail. If Michael asks who sent you, tell him I did. Once you’re done essentially confessing your sins to Michael, you’re to return here and clean every single inch of this break room. If someone asks if they can get something from it, you will get it for them. If they ask why you’re doing this, the three of you, there’s two sets of responses. If Samandriel is asked, he must admit that he was a little cockslut for his Dominants. If either Kevin or Adam are asked, they’re to say that they were thinking with their dicks and had their eyes more focused on Samandriel’s collar than they did on their jobs. You will not be allowed to leave this break room until after I’ve inspected it, for which one of you may come fetch me. I will be informing Raphael about this indiscretion. If the cleaning job meets my satisfaction, no harm no foul. If it doesn’t. . .” he let the threat hang in the air for a moment. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?” 

Adam and Samandriel nodded. Kevin scowled. 

“Screw you, Alighieri,” he sneered. 

“Kev, please,” Adam said, looking at his fellow Dominant. “For Samandriel, swallow your pride and just do it.”

Kevin looked at Adam with a raised brow. “He’s ordering two other Dominants around, Adam,” he pointed out. 

“Mr. Tran, you’re failing to see the bigger picture here,” Lucifer stated calmly. “What you did is technically against regulations, not to mention unsanitary. I have no issues with coworker romance, and neither do my brothers, my sibling, and my sister. What I  _ do  _ care about is the fact that you seemed more focus on getting your dicks wet than your jobs.” 

Kevin reached for his crop. Lucifer quickly moved, snaking his own away from Samandriel’s cheek and smacking Kevin’s fingers making the Dominant wince in slight pain. Lucifer tilted Kevin’s head up with the crop and fixed him with a steely glare. “You, Mr. Tran, are walking on thin ice,” he murmured in a low voice. “I may be of the same presentation as you, but I am still your superior, and I am older. You are failing to listen to reason not just from me, but from a fellow Dominant being punished for the same thing you are. You will do these things, or I’ll make sure Michael cuts off funding for your department. We can’t have that with the cyber security team, now can we?” 

Kevin shook his head, holding his breath. 

“Then I suggest you do as I ordered you to do, or life is going to be Hell for you.” Lucifer withdrew, barely breathing heavily. “Go.” 

The three scrambled out to go to Michael’s office. Donna had left, her break being close to over, and that left the rest of the break room standing around in awe. 

“And what are you all waiting for, a repeat performance?” Lucifer snapped. 

The break room sprung into action and Lucifer made his way over to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup of coffee. His cell phone rang. 

“This is the Devil’s Advocate, Lucifer Alighieri speaking,” he answered, setting the coffee down. 

“Lucifer.” Michael’s voice sounded weary. 

“Do you have three naughty boys in your office?” Lucifer asked, ducking into the fridge to grab his sandwich.

“Did you tell them to explain what they did in graphic detail?” 

“Of course I did,” Lucifer scoffed. 

“I just needed to know that they had sex on a table, I didn’t need a three minute play-by-play given to me by a highly embarrassed Submissive,” Michael chided Lucifer. 

“The play-by-play was necessary, Michael,” Lucifer stated, using his shoulder to hold his phone to his ear as he walked back with his cup of coffee and his sandwich. “For the embarrassment factor.” 

Michael sighed, and Lucifer heard what Michael was thinking.  _ Overcompensating bastard. _ “If you say so.” 

“I do,” Lucifer said. “Now send them on their merry way, I have to change because our security guard is a klutz.”

Michael might’ve said more, but Lucifer had hung up. 

Meg grimaced upon seeing her boss stomp towards the door. “Two hours on holding the calls, Mr. Alighieri?” 

“Yes, thank you, Meg,” Lucifer said with a short smile that was filled with gratitude. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer reviews Sam's file, and finishes disciplining Kevin, Adam, and Samandriel

By the time Lucifer had calmed down, changed into an identical suit, and eaten his lunch, it was two o’clock, and Meg was bringing in Sam’s file. 

“From Michael,” she confirmed. “It’s that file you wanted.”

“Thank you, Meg,” Lucifer said politely, taking the file and smiling up at her. “I saw Castiel get flustered by you.” 

“He’s easily flustered; he ran into your door,” Meg said, amusement coloring her voice. 

“What did you even say to him?” Lucifer asked in curiousity. 

Meg shrugged. “How the cut of his new suit flattered his ass,” she said nonchalantly. 

Lucifer laughed softly and shook his head. “I know my baby brother likes his submissives forward. Keep an eye on him, and hold off calls for the rest of the day unless they’re my brothers, sibling, sister, or Kevin Tran, Adam Milligan, or Samandriel Alberston.” 

Meg chuckled softly. “Of course.” 

She left and Lucifer opened up Sam’s file. The first bit of information was a headshot of him, presumably from his university yearbook. Long hair, a bit shaggy but it suited him. It looked to be dark brown. Strong lined jaw, tensed and clenched tightly; obviously this was either during a mock trial or an actual trial. The nose was a bit long, but slender, and he was clean shaven. His eyes held intensity, even in the photograph, and Lucifer smirked to himself. 

_ Definitely comes across as a Dominant; won’t take no for an answer and eager to find out that answer. If not right then and there, then as soon as possible. Seems to be tense a lot, will sprain his jaw in roughly three years. Minor inconvenience.  _

Setting the photograph down, Sam’s face now facing the smooth cedar of his desk, he picked up the basic information sheet. 

 

**Name: Samuel Lewis Winchester**

**Age: 27**

**Sex: Male**

**Presentation: Dominant**

**Elementary Education: Lawrence Elementary**

**High School Education: Lawrence High School**

**Undergraduate Education: Stanford University, Pre-Law, B.S. Graduated Magna Cum Laude, eighth in his class**

**Post Graduate Education: Stanford Law School. Graduated Magna Cum Laude, twelfth in his class**

**Presentation Material: New, semi decent leather crop. Painted black. Given as a graduation gift by Dean Winchester.**

 

Lucifer smiled as he read everything over. 

_ Close to at least one member of his family, probably went to Stanford on scholarship, full ride. Knows how to be an academic. Young, impressionable still. Also, who the fuck puts their child’s middle name as Lewis? _

Basic fact sheet turned face down on top of the photo precisely, he picked up the family history. 

 

**Father: John Eric Winchester, male, Dominant, deceased. Killed Sam’s second year at Stanford Law School. Former Marine.**

**Mother: Mary Catherine Winchester, née Campbell, female, Switch, deceased. Died when Sam was six months old due to an electrical failure in the wiring causing a housefire. Gunsmith.**

 

_ No parents in the picture currently; must be someone else who looked out for him that’s not blood related. May or may not be mentioned.  _

 

**Brother: Dean Michael Winchester, male, Submissive. Claimed by Benjamin Lafitte. Mechanic. Older than Sam by four years.**

 

_ Oh now  _ THAT’S  _ interesting. Normally whatever the older sibling presents as is what the younger sibling will be, although that wasn’t always the case,  _ Lucifer thought ruefully, stroking his hand over his chin. 

 

**Last Known Long Term Relationship: Jessica Lee Moore, female, Switch, deceased. Killed Sam’s senior year by serial arsonist Tyson Brady. Pre-med student.**

 

Lucifer set down the paper with a sharp intake of breath. He defended Brady all those years ago; it was one of his lower profile cases. There was a bit of a media circus about it though, much to his annoyance. Brady never made it to the end of the trial; one of his cellmates somehow was able to drug the man with a large dose of GHB. It wasn’t a win or a loss for him; it was just an unfortunate thing. 

_ Holy fuck, this poor kid, _ he thought to himself.  _ Being at university wasn’t kind to him; first his girlfriend/fiancée and then his father just a couple short years later? Resilience, though, that’s a good thing. Strong willed.  _

He set the paper about family down and picked up Sam’s resume. 

 

**Academic Awards:**

**National Honor Society, Lawrence High School**

**Phi Beta Kappa, Stanford University**

**Member of the Pre-Law Society, Stanford University**

**Member of Phi Delta Phi, Miller Inn, Stanford Law**

 

_ Highly intelligent and focused on bookwork,  _ Lucifer mused as he scanned the academic awards section. 

He nearly laughed out loud at the next piece of paper he picked up. It seemed as if it was written by his older brother. 

 

**To whomever is reading my little brother’s stuff:**

**Let me tell you, this kid is nerdy as fuck. I’m not kidding. He spends most of his time reading and researching and gets excited about the strangest shit. Let me tell you, academic conversations between him and my husband are banned at the dinner table when His Royal Researchness deigns to actually visit us, or else I go crazy.**

**Nerdiness aside, he’s a good kid. He kept his nose clean and his head held high. Dad didn’t do much of the raising- when Mom died, Dad kinda tanked. It was really me and Uncle Bobby who raised him. He’s got morals and ethics and doesn’t let anyone stand in his way. He’s got his heart in the right place. When we were kids, he’d take in any stray dog that he could. Dad hated it. I wasn’t a fan, but Uncle Bobby didn’t mind. I honestly thought he was gonna be a vet when we were kids, but now I can’t see him as anything else.**

**I remember when Jess died. Man, it tore him up. He was in that apartment when Brady lit it on fire. He tried to get her out, but the firefighters literally cuffed him because he nearly became violent. He followed the case religiously. It was almost like when Mom died and Dad went crazy, but it was productive. He skipped classes to watch the trials- he chose not to testify because he didn’t want people to know who he was. I think in a way it was survivor’s guilt, that she didn’t get out but he did. It cemented what he wanted to do, though, and it’s because of Lucifer Alighieri.**

**“I’m going to work at Alighieri and Sons,” he told me. “That’s my goal.”**

**Sammy doesn’t have a bad bone in his body, I don’t think. Even when he presented as a Dominant and I became irrationally jealous (I was a Submissive, he was a Dominant, can I make it any more obvious as to why?), he worked with me and helped me see my presentation wasn’t a bad thing. I think the only time he used his crop on me was because I punched him in the face. And it wasn’t even to my face- it was to my thigh, and it jerked me out of whatever I was feeling. He’s in control a lot of the time.**

**I know I’m not** **_supposed_ ** **to write a letter of recommendation for Sam- I mean, he’s my little brother. But I couldn’t resist.**

**Please, hire my brother. He’s a good kid, knows what he’s passionate about, and he’s gonna do good. I know he is. This is his dream, the one he won’t shut up about. And he’s worked** **_so hard_ ** **for this.**

**Yours-**

**Dean M. Winchester**

 

Lucifer smiled as he read through Dean’s passionate letter about his brother.  _ Closer than some siblings,  _ he thought as he read it again. The part that Sam wanted to work at Alighieri and Sons  _ specifically  _ because of him definitely made him smile. Here was a boy (Lucifer had a hard time picturing him as a man, despite him only being seven years younger) who had watched the Brady case, saw  _ him  _ defending the man who had murdered his girlfriend and nearly himself, and yet still saw something in Brady that he had made him mourn his death, and saw something in Lucifer that made him want to work here. 

Lucifer read over the three other letters of recommendation and called the two references that Sam had put down on his application, taking notes as he went. 

Michael walked in as he was finishing up the final note. Closing the portfolio he kept his notebook in, he smiled at his older brother. 

“I see you’ve gone over the file,” Michael said, sitting down in front of Lucifer. 

“Yes, I have,” Lucifer replied, leaning back in his seat. “I would’ve been more likely to put him in Gabriel’s department, or even yours, based on his skill set and letters of recommendation.” 

Michael gave a wry smile. “I thought that the young man might like to work under the man who inspired him to work here,” he informed him. 

“Ah.” Lucifer shook his head. 

“You primarily have people older than you or your age working for you,” Michael said, “There’s not an age diversity amongst your lawyers and legal aides, I believe your youngest is 32.” 

“33,” Lucifer corrected him. “Birthday was last week.” 

Michael sighed and shook his head. “Regardless, you need a younger mind in your office, and Sam fits all of your own personal criteria- minus the one about presentation. Luce, you  _ need  _ a Dominant in among your lawyers.” 

“I’m about equal opportunity employment and I find most Dominants that aren’t related to me to be tiresome, egomaniacal, and very disrespectful to those of  _ my  _ presentation,” Lucifer pointed out. 

“Sam doesn’t seem to fit any of those characteristics,” Michael pointed out. “He’s young, so maybe tiresome, but everything else? You listened to what his references had to say. He’s not going to put you or your underlings down. Especially not you, if you continue to maintain the pretense of being a Dominant.” 

“Which I plan to do unless it becomes medically necessary to reveal it or until I die,” Lucifer reminded Michael. 

“It could be beneficial to Alighieri and Sons PR if you were to admit you are a Submissive,” Michael pointed out. “The only other head of a department who is of an alternative presentation is Balthazar, and he’s a Switch.” 

“And a bit of a horndog,” Lucifer reminded Michael.

“You’re only saying that because of his polyamorous lifestyle,” Michael chided him. 

“Well, we all have our faults,” Lucifer said cheerfully. “You dislike romance, I dislike my presentation, Raphael married, of all people, a mortician, Gabriel’s a sugar addict, Balthazar doesn’t believe in monogamy, Anna’s just a bitch and a half, and little Castiel is clueless that my secretary wants him to bend her over her desk and fuck her in front of the entire firm.” 

Michael chuckled and leaned forward. “One, I don’t dislike romance. I just have never had romantic feelings in my life for anyone. Two, you dislike your presentation because you feel that it’s wrong, and yet we’ve had your DNA tested sixteen times since you presented to make sure there was no mistake and technically there’s not a Dominant bone in your body. Three, I’m not sure how Raphael marrying a mortician is a fault. Four, speaking of Gabriel, please tell him to remove the glitter canons from my closet. Five, not a whole lot of people believe in monogamy, Balthazar just likes to collect partners and that’s on him and at least he’s not a cheating whore. Six, I agree that Anna’s a bitch, but take a look at her wife. And seven, is he  _ still  _ that clueless?”

“Castiel knows now she has a crush on him,” Lucifer said, “and refuses to take action because of the fact that it’s an in-office romance.” 

Michael sighed. “I’m about to shove him and Meg in a closet and have Meg seduce him into fucking her,” he muttered. 

“You and me both,” Lucifer agreed, propping his feet up on his desk. 

Michael looked at him pointedly. “Do you always feel like you have to assert some sort of dominance?” he asked softly. “It’s me. You never have to do that around me.”

“I don’t do that around you, people will talk,” Lucifer reminded him. “Besides, this position is comfortable.” 

Michael’s mouth twisted up and he shook his head. “You are going to have your hands full with Sam,” he warned. “This is not only someone who’s going to be a good lawyer for the firm, but he’s going to be eager to prove he’s a good lawyer to his hero.”

Lucifer groaned. “Not a groupie,” he complained only half-heartedly. 

“Yes, a groupie,” Michael laughed. 

Meg knocked right then. “Mr. Alighieri? Mr. Milligan called. He says they’re done cleaning the break room.” 

Lucifer swung his legs off his desk and stood up, straightening his suit. “Excuse me,” he said politely to Michael, “I have to go see about three naughty lawyers.” 

Michael sighed and stood up. “Mind if I watch?” he asked, falling in step beside his younger brother. 

“Of course not,” Lucifer said, smiling at him thinly.

They arrived at the breakroom, where Samandriel was pacing nervously, Adam was waiting with his head held high, and Kevin sulking in a corner. 

“Mr. Milligan,” Lucifer said, surveying the breakroom. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen the sink sparkle like it was doing right now. “It looks like you and your playmates have been busy.” 

“Yes, Mr. Alighieri,” Adam replied. “We disinfected the entire room, vacuumed, cleaned, everything.” 

Lucifer sniffed, nodding approvingly at the smell of bleach in the air. “Very nicely done, gentlemen,” he said. “Mr. Albertson. Mr. Milligan. You are free to go. Mr. Tran, please come talk to me.” 

Adam walked over to Samandriel, who was breathing a huge sigh of relief and wrapped a comforting arm around him, looking back at a cross Kevin. 

“Go on ahead, I’ll be home soon,” Kevin promised. “You know where I keep his chamomile.” 

Adam nodded, leading their joint Submissive out and towards his car. 

“Mr. Tran,” Lucifer said, once Adam and Samandriel were out of sight, “Are you sulking because you were punished, or because you don’t feel it’s my place to punish you because we are equals?” 

Kevin sighed. “I’m sulking because I didn’t think that doing that was a big deal,” he admitted. “Samandriel had his performance review today, and he was so jittery. I wanted to take care of him. But merely being on his knees wasn’t enough. It usually isn’t; he’s only calmed by fucking. I didn’t want to take him to the bathroom, because. . . well-” 

“Because that would’ve been too public and you respect your Submissive,” Lucifer finished quietly. 

Kevin nodded. “Adam was helping, and doing the double penetration was his idea. Maybe a bit extreme, but. . . damn, Lucifer, I’ve never seen him this agitated.” 

Lucifer sighed. “You decided not to bring up the reason why the two of you stretched him open like that when I was talking to you earlier in the breakroom. Why?” 

Kevin sighed. “Because Samandriel was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he needed that before work today. Embarrassed that it needed to happen. And you weren’t helping matters. I didn’t want to embarrass or upset him further.” 

Lucifer nodded and rested a hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “You did the right thing,” he said softly. “For your Submissive. And while you sulked and probably cursed my name in a bunch of different languages, you still did the work and helped atone.”

Kevin nodded. 

“I’m proud of you for that, it shows that we didn’t make a mistake here at Alighieri and Sons,” Lucifer went on to explain. “Next time Samandriel needs that kind of attention, can you please shoot me an email or a text, so we don’t have a repeat? And please. . . not the breakroom. We do have a room for that sort of thing.” 

Kevin grimaced, but nodded. “Sure thing. It was an emergency situation.” 

Lucifer gave a soft smile. “Go home, and show your Submissive how proud you are of him,” he said. 

Kevin nodded. “I will. Thank you, Mr. Alighieri.” 

“It is my pleasure, Mr. Tran.” 

Kevin moved past Lucifer, nodding at Michael, and left. 

“That was nice of you,” Michael said, falling in step beside Lucifer as they headed back to his office. 

Lucifer shrugged. “He did what any husband or wife worth their salt would do,” he said dismissively. 

“Regardless, you told a young Dominant that he did the right thing and told him what to do in the future,” Michael said. “That’s impressive.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes, nodding at Meg. “Go home, and dream about the unicorn you’re attempting to catch,” he teased her. 

“I’ll catch him soon enough, Mr. Alighieri,” Meg said confidently, standing and smoothing down her dress. “Clarence doesn’t stand a chance.” 

Lucifer chuckled and nodded. “Good night, Meg.” 

“Good night, Mr. Alighieri.”

“You’re off this weekend, by the way,” Lucifer said just before he entered his office. “See you on Monday.” 

“Thanks, Lucifer,” Meg said with a smile. 

Lucifer nodded and entered his office, walking over to pick up his briefcase and log off his laptop. 

“Do you need it? You’re nearly due,” Michael said softly, walking over to Lucifer and standing in front of him. 

Lucifer shook his head. “I’m good,” he whispered quietly. 

“Are you sure?” Michael pressed, reaching up and running his thumb lightly over the top of his shirt collar. “You’re tense.” 

“I’m a lawyer who deals with rapists and murderers all day,” Lucifer said, “and annoying plastic surgeons.” 

Michael chuckled softly. “I’m here if you need it,” he murmured. 

“Thanks, Michael,” Lucifer said, closing his briefcase and looking at his older brother, “but I think I’m good. The moment it changes, I’ll let you know.” 

“You better,” Michael warned. “You may be an adult, but I still have no qualms throwing you over my knee and spanking you like a toddler.” 

“Kinky, Mikey,” Lucifer teased. “Let me go home and binge watch medical documentaries.” 

Laughing softly, Michael stepped out of Lucifer’s way and nodded. “Have a good night, Lucifer.” 

“You too, Michael,” Lucifer said as he left his office to go home. He had a weekend off, which meant he was going to spend it relaxing and sleeping, maybe even working on how long he could go without his collar. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer meets Sam

Lucifer walked in through the doors of Alighieri and Sons Monday morning with a little more pep in his step than normal. He spent the weekend relaxing and watching his version of bad TV in the form of medical and crime documentaries. He was able to make it forty minutes Sunday AND Monday morning without his collar. He also got to eat bad food. 

“Good morning, Mr. Alighieri,” Meg greeted him with his usual cup of coffee and fell in step behind him. 

“Morning, Meg,” Lucifer said, taking the coffee and taking a sip. “Agenda for today?” 

“You have a Sam Winchester to meet this morning,” Meg said, looking on her phone and weaving expertly through the crowds, “And you have a meeting with Richard Roman regarding the mass murder lawsuit against him dealing with the baby formula crisis at eleven.” 

Lucifer groaned. “Anyone else?” 

“Abaddon Sanders at two, and Lilith Daemon at four,” Meg reported. 

Lucifer sighed. It was going to be a long day today. “Alright. Where is Mr. Winchester?” 

“In your office,” Meg replied. 

“Thank you.” Lucifer opened his office door as Meg took her seat outside of the office, smiling to herself. 

Sam was standing at the opposite wall, looking at Lucifer’s law degree from Harvard, hands clasped behind his back as he waited. Upon hearing the door open, he turned and looked at Lucifer as the older man closed it. 

“Mr. Winchester, I presume?” Lucifer asked as he walked towards him. Christ, Sam was  _ tall.  _

“Oh! Yes. Hi,” Sam said, smiling happily. “I’m Sam Winchester.” 

“Lucifer Alighieri,” Lucifer said, shaking Sam’s hand. Solid, firm grip. He was wearing a dark brown suit with a cream shirt and forest green tie, a black crop hanging from the clip on his belt. His hair was a bit longer than it was in the photograph in his file, but neatly combed back behind his ears. 

“Thank you, so much, for providing me with this opportunity,” Sam said somewhat enthusiastically. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” 

Lucifer gave a polite smile towards the hyperactive new lawyer, silently promising death to his older brother and his father. And, quite possibly, more than just death to Michael. “Have a seat, Mr. Winchester,” Lucifer said, guiding the younger man to the chairs in front of his desk. “You have an impressive academic resume, Mr. Winchester,” he continued as he walked around his desk to sit down in his own chair. “I’m rather intrigued to see what you will end up contributing to Alighieri and Sons.” 

Sam was pretty much bouncing in his seat.  _ Was I ever like this as a young lawyer?  _ Lucifer thought as he went on. “Now, you’ve been placed in my division, Mr. Winchester. This is not a division for the faint of heart, but surely you realize that.” 

“I understand that, Mr. Alighieri,” Sam said. 

_ Is it possible to punch the happiness out of someone?  _ Lucifer thought idly to himself, straightening his pens. “Ah. That’s right. You followed the Tyson Brady case religiously, from what I heard.” 

Sam nodded, floppy hair bouncing. If Lucifer didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed that the young man before him was, at the very least, a Switch, if not a Submissive. But there was a certain aura about him, even amidst his childlike eagerness, that spoke of quiet dominance. 

_ Good. He’s not going to scare my other lawyers.  _ That was his job, to scare and keep the others in line. No one else was allowed to be scary. 

“Yes, I did. I mean, I. . . I really couldn’t afford not to, not with what happened.” He shrugged. “But the way you handled the case. . . It was amazing. You  _ knew  _ he was guilty, knew that him going to trial was, quite honestly, a mistake, and yet you still delivered an amazing defense.” 

Lucifer inclined his head in acknowledgement of the compliment. “I was simply doing a job. It’s not one of the. . . best jobs I’ve ever done, but it was a job.” 

Sam nodded. 

“Now,” Lucifer leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him as if he were kneeling on a church kneeler to pray, “I have very high expectations of my lawyers, Mr. Winchester.” 

“I don’t doubt that, Mr. Alighieri,” Sam said, leaning forward in own seat, “But I feel like I will be a good fit here, and I’m eager to prove myself, to you especially.” 

_ This is going to be a long two months.  _ Lucifer smiled and mentally reviewed the cases that he was working on before frowning. All three were very messy, very involved, and two were about to hit trial soon. 

“I’m going to assign you outside of my division for your first case, Mr. Winchester,” Lucifer said handing him some folders, “Two of these cases are almost at the trial stage, and the third is a complicated case. It was a case assigned to me initially, and both you and the other head lawyer working on this will be reporting to me, do you understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Lucifer gave a light shiver upon hearing the  _ Sir  _ issue from Sam’s throat. It was a pleasant surprise. “Your supervising lawyer is Castiel Alighieri,” he said with a small smile. “Have Meg show you the way, and if Castiel has any questions, tell him to call me.” 

Sam nodded, about ready to rocket out of his seat. “Alright, thank you, Sir!” he said cheerily. 

Lucifer wondered if it was too early to scare the younger man. “Alright. I shall see you later, Mr. Winchester.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Alighieri!” Sam stood up as if he had been swatted rather firmly on the rump. “You won’t regret this, I promise!” 

_ I already am.  _ “Have a good first day of work, Mr. Winchester.” 

Sam bolted out of the office as if his clothes were on fire. Lucifer sighed, picked up his office phone and dialing Michael’s extension. 

“Michael Alighieri.” 

“I am planning very creative ways to commit fratricide and getting Castiel or Balthazar to represent me,” Lucifer warned. 

“I take it you met Sam,” Michael hummed. 

“I met the human version of a golden retriever,” Lucifer grumbled. 

Michael laughed softly. 

“I’m not kidding, Mike,” Lucifer complained. “He’s hyper, he’s overeager, and there’s no way there’s THAT much happiness in someone. Seriously. You gave me a puppy for a lawyer.” 

“It’ll be good for you,” Michael encouraged. “There’s so much doom and gloom in your department.” 

“I represent rapists and murderers, Michael, of course it’s doom and gloom.” 

“You’re fine. Sam’s happiness will bring a new aura into your life.” 

“I still hate you.” 

“I love you too, baby brother. Now go. I’m meeting with a client.” 

Lucifer hung up the phone and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

_ Two months. He’s on a two month trial. He can leave after two months.  _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer does dominance displays with Castiel, and runs into Sam. Literally

Wednesday, Lucifer conceded a personal victory during his usual daily talk with Castiel. 

“If I ask Meg on a date,” Castiel sighed tiredly, “Will you, Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, and Balthazar FINALLY shut the hell up?” 

“Maybe,” Lucifer said, leaning over his desk. “You really should. Mikey said something about locking the two of you in a closet last week if you didn’t make a move.” 

“What would locking me in a closet with Meg do, besides further my annoyance?” Castiel asked quizzically. 

Lucifer chuckled. “Maybe get you laid? Or at the very least, a phone number and a hard cock?” 

“Lucifer!” Castiel scolded. “Language!” 

Lucifer chuckled darkly. “Hey, you’re the one who insists on calling each of Balthazar’s twelve partners ‘the Whores of Balthazar’.” 

“He is a whore,” Castiel grumbled. 

“Slut,” Lucifer corrected. “Sluts don’t get paid.” 

“Whatever.” Castiel straightened his trench coat. Sighing, Lucifer got up and walked over to his youngest brother. Grabbing the neck of the coat, he forcefully shoved Castiel out of it.

Castiel flailed, managing somehow to get out of the coat and ended up sprawled on the floor. Lucifer looked down smugly at his brother, folding the trench coat neatly and carrying it over to his desk. 

“Lucifer!” Castiel growled, his voice dark and low enough to raise hairs on the back of a sensible person’s neck. Lucifer, however, was not a sensible person, and he merely smirked before opening a drawer and depositing the coat neatly into it. 

“You can get the coat back  _ when  _ you have gone on that date with Meg,” he said firmly. “And I want proof. The bill from the restaurant, the stub from the movie theatre, hell, her panties. I don’t give a fuck. I want proof.” 

Castiel gave a lower growl. “I want my coat back.” 

“You look better without it,” Lucifer insisted. 

“Lucifer Dantes Alighieri,” Castiel growled, standing up and slamming his hands down on his older brother’s desk. There was unmistakably a Dom in the room, and that was Castiel James Alighieri.

Lucifer wasn’t cowed by his little brother attempting to Dom him. He smoothly uncrossed his legs and stood up, meeting his brother’s blue eyed gaze head on and giving a small smirk. “Baby brother,” he murmured mockingly, “I may be a Submissive, but I won’t be Dommed in my own office, where people don’t know I’m actually a Submissive, nor will I tolerate your brand of domination. You’re a fantastic Dom, Castiel, but the only Dom I’ll even  _ think  _ of getting on my knees for is Michael, and you know it. I won’t be scared of you, or by you. I am your  _ older  _ brother, and you will treat me with the proper respect.” There was a thinly veiled dominant persona emitting from Lucifer, one that exuded quiet power rather than the reactionary anger Castiel had just exhibited. “You will get your trench coat back when I have proof you went on that date with Meg. Understand?” 

Castiel held his gaze, jaw clenching, before sighing and nodding in agreement. “Fine,” he said tersely. 

Lucifer smiled and glanced over Castiel’s shoulder to see Meg hurriedly spinning in her office chair in her office adjacent from his, smoothing out her dress and pretending like she didn’t just see the dominance displays. 

Lucifer gave a low, throaty chuckle as he withdrew and sat back in his chair. “I think your little Alpha display made a certain Miss Masters feel a little hot under the collar,” he mentioned. 

Castiel flushed darkly, nervousness clear on his face. 

“Aww, you’re blushing,” Lucifer teased with a smile. “How’s Mr. Winchester doing with the Azazel case?”

“Sam is doing rather well, I’m impressed,” Castiel said, thankful for a change of topic. He sat back down and picked up his travel mug, taking a long drink from it.  “He’s managed to find a couple of loopholes in the case. He should be a fine lawyer.” 

Lucifer gave a smile. 

“Of course, he seems to have you up on a pedestal,” Castiel said, concealing a tiny smile. “It’s cute, actually.”

Lucifer scowled. “It’s not cute,” he grumbled. 

“Oh, it is,” Castiel assured him. 

“He’s a  _ puppy,  _ baby brother. One with hero worship for a bitter old man,” Lucifer shook his head. 

Castiel smiled. “And puppies grow into dogs, and I’m fairly certain that he’s one of those Dominants that flips switches. I’m rather eager to see him get angry. And you’re not old, Lucifer. You’re 34.”

“Believe me, Castiel, that’s old,” Lucifer chuckled. 

“It’s not,” Castiel insisted. “Father is old. Next to him, you’re a spring chicken.” 

Lucifer laughed. “I’m not sure if I should feel flattered or not,” he said.

Castiel chuckled. “Give Sam a chance, I have a feeling he’ll surprise you.” 

Lucifer nodded. “I think he’ll be good here. Maybe not under me, but he’ll be a good fit for Alighieri and Sons.”

Castiel smirked and stood up. “Good.” 

“Remember, once I have proof of a date, you get your beloved trench coat back,” Lucifer said, turning to his computer. 

Castiel rolled his eyes and left, of course stopping by Meg’s little office and talking. 

 

Lucifer sighed as he made his way down to the breakroom, empty coffee mug in hand. Today, Michael would’ve ran to Taco Bell for the two of them, and the thought of eating tacos and burritos was enough to make his stomach growl. 

He gave a polite smile to people as he walked, stopping to talk to Gabriel once again about removing the glitter cannons from Michael’s closet. As amusing as bright pink glitter was, angry Michael wasn’t fun.  Gabriel refused, golden eyes lighting up in mischief. 

“Why does everyone think Gabe would listen to me?” he murmured to himself as he walked towards the breakroom. 

An exclamation of “OH HOLY FUCKING SHIT” was Lucifer’s only warning before he was rammed into by an overgrown. . . person. 

Lucifer was a tall man. And he was a strong man who was not used to being knocked to the ground. Growing up with your wrestling champion of a brother teaches you how to not be easily knocked over. And yet, he was. And.. . Yep, that’s warm coffee on his shirt, belt, and pants. Whoever was taller than him and apparently strong enough to pin him to the floor must’ve been drinking coffee. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, Mr. Alighieri, I must’ve tripped!” Sam was scrambling to get off of Lucifer, empty coffee mug set to the side. 

Lucifer looked up at his newest hire with a hard glare. 

Sam gave a hopeless smile as he held out his hand to help Lucifer up off the ground. “I am  _ so  _ sorry, Mr. Alighieri, I’m normally-”

“Not acting like a newborn giraffe?”

Sam flushed, swallowing. His mouth opened helplessly. 

Oh, this was a look Lucifer liked on him. He took Sam’s hand and allowed him to help him up, then pulled Sam in close. 

“Does it look like I have time to change my clothes, Mr. Winchester?” he asked in a low, dark voice. 

“No, Sir,” Sam shook his head. 

“Then would you like to explain how I ended up with  _ your  _ coffee on  _ my  _ suits, which are probably worth as much as Stanford tuition?” Lucifer asked softly. 

Sam swallowed. “I-I-I tripped.” 

“You tripped.” Lucifer’s voice was flat. “Over what, your moose feet?” 

“I’m not sure, Sir, I apologize profusely. Is there anything I can do to make this better?” Sam sounded very contrite, a lot more contrite than most of the other people he’s usually scaring into submission.

Lucifer unclipped his crop and gently brought the leather up to caress Sam’s face. He swallowed, but didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Just allowed whatever it was to happen. 

_ Interesting,  _ Lucifer noted with an internal smirk. “I think the best thing for you to do is, as they say, to ‘beat it’, Mr. Winchester.” 

Sam nodded, but he didn’t move until Lucifer removed the crop from the strong curve of the taller man’s jaw. 

Lucifer watched him head off to Castiel’s office before returning on his quest for more coffee and Taco Bell.

He returned to his office, spoils in hand, and Meg raised a brow. “Two hours?” 

“Yes, thank you,” Lucifer said. “Noticed you got a little hot under the collar when Castiel was being an Alpha male.” 

“It’s always incredibly arousing to see two Dominants show off to each other,” Meg shrugged. “But Clarence? Damn, if I was you at that moment, I’d be a puddle on the ground.” 

Lucifer chuckled low in his throat. “Maybe you can appreciate his talents more,” he said. 

Meg smirked. “I hope so. He finally asked me on a date.”

“When?” Lucifer asked. 

“Next Thursday.” Meg smiled. 

“Excellent, can’t wait to hear about it,” Lucifer said. “Hold all calls for the next two hours.” 

“Yes, Mr. Alighieri.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer has a meeting with Sam, and Alastair has something up his sleeve

Lucifer nodded, smiling up at Castiel as he handed him the black binder filled with the final report on the Azazel case. Somehow, between Castiel and Sam, Azazel’s charge went from grand larceny to simple theft of the Colt and managed to secure a light three year sentence at a minimum security facility a week later. It was a plea out, but they both did a good job. “Thank you, Castiel.” 

“You’re welcome, Lucifer. Sam is a truly intelligent mind.” Castiel sat down across from Lucifer and took a long sip of his coffee in his travel mug. 

“I’m sure he is,” Lucifer said. “I take it you let him type up the final report?” 

Castiel nodded. “I figured it would be good practice and that it’d help you make the decision to keep him in your department. It’s actually a rather impressive report.” 

Lucifer nodded as he set the binder down. “Excited for your date tomorrow night?” he asked. 

Castiel gave a one shoulder shrug. “As ready as I can be, I guess.” 

“Remember, I require proof of the date, or you won’t get the trench coat back,” Lucifer smirked. 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “There are days I think you’re a child, Lucifer. This is one of them.” 

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. “Any of your other brothers, Raphael, or Anna would agree with me on this,” he reminded him. 

Castiel sighed and shook his head. “You’re impossible.” 

“Takes one to know one.  Now shoo, I have reports to read, Abaddon Sanders coming, and the Picassos should be here any minute.” 

Castiel stood up and walked out of Lucifer’s office, calmly flipping his second oldest brother the finger as he did so. 

Lucifer cackled and picked up the black binder. Might as well get Sam’s report out of the way. 

Three pages in, and Lucifer was colored impressed. Where he expected to see flowery language and long winded explanations for even the simplest of things, everything was written out in plain English and was straight to the point. Case laws that Sam used to build his plea bargain were referenced and cross referenced with other similar cases. 

Lucifer finished reading the report and set it down, smiling to himself. Yes, Sam definitely showed promise. 

He dialed Sam’s extension. “Mr. Winchester? Please come see me in my office.” 

 

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Alighieri?” 

Lucifer nodded, barely looking at Sam as he typed up a bill for Lilith Daemon. “Have a seat, I’ll be there with you in a moment.” 

Sam sat down and Lucifer looked at him through his peripheral vision. Today Sam was wearing a black suit with a red and blue striped tie. He had a pen tucked behind his ear, and the black crop was placed neatly across his lap. 

Finishing the bill and emailing it to Meg for review and printing, he turned to Sam and tapped the black binder. “I read the final report for the Azazel case. Your report.” 

Sam sat up a little bit straighter in his seat. “Yes?” 

“I’m thoroughly impressed,” Lucifer stated. “It was straight, simple, and to the point. There was no flowery language or anything like that. It was a very professional report.” 

Sam beamed at him. Jesus fuck, he had dimples. How dare the puppy have this right to be cute. “Thank you, Sir,” he said honestly. 

“You’ll do well here,” Lucifer said, giving an indulgent smile. 

Alastair Picasso came in at that moment and Lucifer inwardly sighed at the plastic surgeon’s lack of social graces. “Good morning, Dr. Picasso,” he said politely, but firmly. 

“Oh, I didn’t see that you had a client already,” Alastair simpered. 

Sam scowled at Alastair, sticking his hand out jerkily. “Samuel Winchester, I’m a lawyer here at Alighieri and Sons,” he said shortly. 

Lucifer hid a smile. “Mr. Winchester is a new lawyer under my division. He’s an exceptional debater.” 

Alastair sneered, shaking Sam’s hand quickly. “Dr. Alastair Picasso,” he said shortly, apparently disliking the young lawyer already. 

“Are you ready to finalize your will, Dr. Picasso?” Lucifer asked simply. 

“I am,” Alastair said, sitting down as Sam went to go stand behind Lucifer’s chair and to the side to see the proceedings. Lucifer’s fairly certain he wouldn’t mind that in the future, having the young man at his beck and call. 

Lucifer drew up the final copy of the will that he had printed out just that morning and handed it across the desk to Alastair. “Please read through and sign when you are done,” he said. 

Alastair took the will, smiling dangerously. “So, Mr. Winchester. . . presentation?” he asked absentmindedly as his pale eyes scanned the document. 

“Dominant, not that it matters,” Sam said shortly. 

Alastair raised his eyes to regard Lucifer. “You actually have a Dominant working for you?” he asked in disbelief. 

“It wasn’t my decision originally, but my brother had a point,” Lucifer stated. 

“You know, with seven children, I’m surprised that Charles managed to get six Dominants and one Switch,” Alastair commented, returning to his newly written will. “Technically, one of you should have been a Submissive.” 

Lucifer gave a tight lipped smile. “I guess you could say that Father was blessed with four male Dominants, a genderfluid Dominant, a female Dominant, and a male Switch,” he said simply. He was now highly aware of the collar he wore and bit his lip. 

“Not that presentation should matter,” Sam said smoothly. “My brother’s a Submissive, and he’s one of the best damn mechanics in the Tri-State area.”

Alastair made a somewhat interested noise. “Mechanic? So, menial labor,” he said dismissively. 

Sam gave a low growl and Lucifer reached behind him to swat the other man’s upper thigh, narrowly avoiding Sam’s crop. “Behave,” he hissed under his breath before returning to Alastair. “Not that there are more opportunities for Submissives than for Dominants, and even what you call ‘menial’ labor is important for society,” Lucifer said pleasantly. “After all, if your car breaks down, who’s to fix it?” 

“I suppose you have a point there,” Alastair admitted grudgingly. He finished reading his new will and and leaned forward to sign the will. “Everything is perfect now,” he stated as he signed it in usual illegible doctor fashion. 

Lucifer tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement as Alastair handed the will back and he signed it as well, the  _ L, D,  _ and  _ A  _ of his name larger than the rest of it. 

“Mr. Alighieri,” Alastair said smoothly, watching as Lucifer handed the will to Sam and pointed at the copier. “Why don’t you and the young lawyer come around my place Saturday afternoon? We’re having a pool party, and I’m sure Tessa would love having you there.” 

“Are you sure that’s wise, Dr. Picasso?” Lucifer asked simply. “I’m a bit sensitive to the sun, and I’d hate to have to leave because I got as red as a lobster.”

“We’ll make sure you’re under an umbrella,” Alastair said with a wave of his hand. “Should I tell Tessa to mark you down with young Mr. Winchester?” 

Lucifer looked up at Sam, calculating the other man’s expression. Meeting his eyes, Sam gave an imperceptible nod. If they refused, they might offend him, and offending clients was typically not wise.

Lucifer turned his eyes back to Alastair. 

“Yes. We’ll be there.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the Picasso Pool Party, and it wears Lucifer out in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: There is a scene where Michael acts as Lucifer's Dominant, but it's a nonsexual scene. It's to calm Lucifer down, and also to show that D/s relationships are not always sexual. Thank You.

Lucifer sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Michael, I will inform you when I’m on my way home,” he said in a put-upon voice. 

“Do you have your collar with you?” Michael asked. 

Lucifer raised his eyes to the heavens. “It’s in the glove box,  _ Mom. _ ”

Michael sighed. “Don’t be a hero,” he reminded Lucifer. 

“Yes, yes, yes, shut up,” Lucifer grumped. “I know how to handle myself.”

“I know you do, but you’re going to be fighting biology fairly hard today,” Michael said patiently. “Be patient, and don’t freak out too much.” 

“Yeah,” Lucifer breathed. He had made calculations. He was going to push himself today, and while that was scary, he was excited. He could do this. He knew he can do this. 

“Alright. Call me the  _ moment  _ you’re on your way home.” Michael was definitely rolling his eyes. 

“Yes, Mother,” Lucifer growled. 

Finally pulling up to the Picasso mansion, Lucifer turned off his car and opened his glove box, pulling out the sunscreen he’d stashed in there and stroking the thin black collar that bound his hands in so many ways. 

“I can do this,” he whispered. Putting the collar back, he opened the door and got out of the car, making a face at the way his olive green swim trunks clung to his junk. He waved over at Sam, who had just pulled up and was wearing black swim trunks slung low on his hips so one could see the V. 

“Did you have a nice drive, Mr. Alighieri?” Sam asked, falling in step beside his employer. 

“We’re not in the office, Sam, you can call me Lucifer,” Lucifer said with a crack of his neck as he rapped on the door. 

A young man answered the door, wearing simple shorts and a thin black collar. It was apparent from the look on his face that he was the displaced son. 

“Welcome, Mr. Alighieri, Mr. Winchester. Father and Mother are straight ahead, through the French doors,” he mumbled. 

Lucifer took a deep breath and entered the house, Sam trailing behind like a puppy dog. 

“Ah! The man of the hour!” Alastair said in an excited voice, striding forward from where he was seated on the lawn chair. There were four lawn chairs, and two yoga mats available. On the diving board of the Olympic sized swimming pool was obviously the Picassos’ younger son, preparing to do a dive. “I’m so  _ pleased  _ that you could make it.”

“Is your daughter not around?” Lucifer asked. 

“She’s staying over at a friend’s.  Good to see you, Mr. Winchester, as well,” Alastair said. “Drinks? Tessa’s fixing up a wonderful sangria.” 

“I’ll take a beer, Dr. Picasso,” Sam said respectfully. 

“Oh, we can dispose of that nonsense,” Alastair smiled, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “You may call me Alastair when we’re not doing dominance displays in ol’ Luci’s office, eh?” 

Lucifer gave a tight lipped smile. “You’re far older than me, Alastair,” he reminded him. “And I’ll take a Sex on the Beach, if you’ve got the liquor for it.” 

Alastair laughed heartily. “Boy! Go tell your mother that she needs to bring out a beer and a Sex on the Beach!” he barked at his son. 

“Yes, Father,” the older son muttered, slouching his way into the kitchen as the echoing splash behind them indicated that his younger brother completed a dive. 

“Come, sit, Tessa and the boy will bring out your drinks and refreshments,” Alastair said, clasping a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. The lawyer scowled and hefted his crop. 

“Apologies,” Alastair said, removing his hand as he saw the potential threat. He still kept a hand on Sam’s shoulder as he steered him towards one of the lawn chairs. Sam passively allowed it, but Lucifer saw the way the muscles in his jaw clenched, and hid a smile as he sprawled out on the lawn chair, starting to slather sunscreen on his somewhat pale body. 

“You must not get outside without a shirt on very often,” Alastair remarked, observing. 

Lucifer threw him a sardonic smile. “Multiple times of burning, plus a family history of skin cancer, does tend to make one a little bit paranoid about the sun,” he said. “You should know that, you’re a doctor.” 

“I just carve people into new animals, Luci,” Alastair chuckled before turning his attention to Sam. “So, Sam. . . got a Submissive?” 

Sam shook his head. “Don’t have anyone,” he admitted. “My last girlfriend. . . well, she was a Switch, but it doesn’t matter much, does it? She died. She was one of the victims of Tyson Brady.” 

“One of Luci’s most phenomenal cases,” Alastair chuckled. “‘Course, that man died, but not anyone’s fault. Still. You must harbor  _ some  _ feelings of resentment towards the man who defended your girlfriend’s killer.” 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. 

“I’m working for Alighieri and Sons  _ because  _ of Lucifer’s exceptional work,” Sam said simply. “I’ve wanted to do defense since I was a kid, and Lucifer only cemented where I wanted to end up. And now I’m here, fresh out of law school and working for one of the best firms in the country, and one of the best lawyers in the country.” 

“Sam, we’ve talked about the flattery,” Lucifer gently chided him. 

Sam ducked his head. “Sorry.” 

“Oh come on, now Luci!” Alastair’s eyes seemed to gleam. “The boy clearly worships you.” 

“He’s not a ‘boy’, he’s twenty seven,” Lucifer raised a brow. “Don’t mistake his puppy like demeanor for anything other than a personality quirk.”

Sam threw a glare at Lucifer, but Lucifer ignored it.

“Of course. I didn’t mean to be insulting. But to be  _ worshipped  _ in such a way! To have a worker who will do  _ anything  _ to please you because they idolize you!” Alastair waved his hands expansively. “ _ That  _ is how you know you’ve made it big.”

Tessa walked in at that moment with chips, salsa, queso, and the drinks that everyone requested. Lucifer smiled at her, kissing her cheek in thanks as he accepted his cocktail, and took a sip. 

“I’m fairly certain every woman, no matter presentation, ‘idolizes’ you for every tummy tuck and boob job and Botox treatment you do to them,” Lucifer said as if they hadn’t been interrupted. 

“It’s a different kind of idolatry,” Alastair waved his hand. “You  _ inspired. _ ” 

Lucifer gave an inclination of his head. “I thank you, but I propose we table conversation in favor of food and drink.”

“I can agree to that,” Alastair replied. 

 

The get together was longer than Lucifer anticipated. After they had all gorged themselves on food and drink, and spent some time resting, Sam was swimming with Alastair’s younger son, the sun kissing his tanned skin. Lucifer and Alastair instead were laying on their fronts so Tessa and the Picassos’ oldest could massage them. Already he can feel the bead of sweat gloss over on his brow. 

“Why  _ do  _ you hire so many Submissives and Switches, Luci?” Alastair asked. 

“Personal preference,” Lucifer said idly. “I’d rather not have my authority constantly challenged and do consistent dominance displays. I have my siblings for that. Not to mention many of them are fine lawyers and legal aides, rivalling our current partners. Sam’s a bit different. He takes direction well.” He grunted as Tessa managed to work out a knot in his lower lumbar. 

“You know, Luci you’re a pretty good Dominant. Not overly flashy or anything,” Alastair commented. “How come you don’t have a hot little Submissive?” 

Lucifer could’ve decked him. “I prefer my work,” he lied simply. “I don’t really have time for romance or anything petty like that. I just want to do my defense lawyer stuff and do good in the world. If the right Submissive were to come along, then I’d change my mind. But that’s if the right one ever comes along.” 

Alastair nodded. “I was wondering, because the boy-” 

“Is sixteen years old, far too young for an old thing like me,” Lucifer laughed. “If you’re going to do the whole arranged marriage thing, give him to someone who isn’t nearly twice his age and old enough to be his father. Besides, I don’t think you want your boy to be cynical.” Internally, he wanted to vomit. Alastair was already treating his son just like he treated his wife -- like property. 

It was men like Alastair that made Lucifer hate his presentation all the more. 

“Truth,” Alastair nodded. “You’re a wise man, Luci.” 

“Nah, just a regular one.” Lucifer shifted, wiping the sweat from his brow. Oh he was so thankful that today was  _ hot  _ out. It was at least ninety five degrees, and that was hot enough to blame the sweat from needing his collar on. 

 

Lucifer was now nervous, tense, and the headache he was sporting rivaled the hangovers from his undergrad days. He pushed through, teasing Sam lightly and playing the dangerous talking game with Alastair. His fingers kept twitching around the glass of water, itching to rub his neck for his collar. He settled for stroking his crop absently most of the time, feeling the leather trail under his fingers. It wasn’t his collar, but it was close enough. 

 

It was nearly dark, and both Lucifer and Sam were begging to leave. The headache Lucifer was sporting was nearly making him weak, and Sam wanted to check in on his brother and brother-in-law. They bade the Picassos good night, Alastair kissing both of their cheeks as he saw them off to their cars. 

“See you Monday morning, Lucifer?” Sam asked, leaning over the top of his car. 

Lucifer nodded and politely waved. “See you Monday morning, Sam.” 

Beaming, Sam got into his car and drove off. 

Lucifer eased into his car; he waited until he was on the interstate towards Michael’s before putting his vehicle on cruise control. He tugged open the glove compartment and called Michael.

“Lucifer! Are you okay?” Michael sounded like a worried mother hen. 

“I’m okay,” he whispered, finding his collar and hurriedly putting it on. “I’m coming over. ETA five minutes.” 

“I’ll be here.” Michael’s voice was low, and soothing. 

Lucifer nodded and hung up, breathing deeply as he clicked his turn signal on for his exit and drove into the suburban town that Michael lived in. 

He found Michael’s house as if he were on autopilot and pulled in. Killing the engine, he got out of the car and entered Michael’s living room without even knocking. He kicked off his shoes and hung up his spring jacket before he felt Michael’s strong hand clamp down on his shoulder and turn him around. 

“Kneel.” Michael’s voice brokered no argument, but Lucifer was going to give him one. 

“Make me,” he hissed. 

“This is what you came over for, is it not?” Michael asked, slipping his fingers underneath Lucifer’s collar and jerking him forward. “You came to kneel at my feet, to submit. If this isn’t what you need, leave.” 

Lucifer took a deep breath and sighed, slowly sinking to his knees. 

Michael took a moment to pat Lucifer’s head before he squatted down in front of his younger brother, tilting Lucifer’s defiant look upwards. “What did that man do?” he whispered. “Tell me.” 

So Lucifer spoke. Told how he was called Luci, how Sam was disrespected due to age. How Alastair had not only asked Lucifer why he didn’t have his own Submissive, but if he’d like his newly presented sixteen year old son to be his. Michael growled a little at that, but he explained how Alastair kept touching him before apologizing, how the conversations seemed to revolve around Submissives. He even mentioned that once, Alastair backhanded Tessa for spilling his drink onto him. She took it with pride, but Lucifer could see how broken she was. 

“There must be something we can do,” he whispered, running his hands along his collar in nervousness. 

“Shh,” Michael soothed, taking Lucifer’s hands into his own, as he has done many times before, and squeezed them. “We’ll think of something, little bro. I promise. But Alastair’s got money and he could always go somewhere else. Best to let it go until Tessa starts showing bruising, alright?” 

Lucifer took a large lungful of air and sighed. “Yes, Michael.” 

“I’m going to sit on the couch,” Michael said, speaking clearly and precisely. It was clear that he was telling Lucifer what to do. “I want you to go into the kitchen and get a bottle of water, an apple, and a chocolate bar. You are going to return, then, and sit next to me. I will feed you and give you water, and then you’re going to close your eyes after laying down, your head on my lap. If you can’t sleep, just lay there and rest. You’ve had a long day. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Michael.” Lucifer’s tone was subdued. 

“Do you have any requests for what’s on TV?” Michael asked softly. 

Lucifer pondered this. “Whatever’s on Investigation: Discovery, Michael, please.” 

“Such a polite little brother,” Michael said, placing a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s forehead. “Go.” 

Lucifer got up and did what Michael requested of him, grabbing a bottle of room temperature water, an apple that he quickly cored and sliced, and a bar of dark chocolate, before returning. Sitting down next to Michael, he handed him the items requested and leaned against him. 

Smiling gently, Michael hand fed Lucifer and made sure he got plenty to drink, staying silent. Too much talking, he had learned early on in taking care of his brother in this way, would freak him out. It made him think too much. So silence except for orders and gentle praise was more than necessary. The sounds of a crime documentary played softly in the background.

Lucifer drained the last of the water and sighed softly, setting the bottle and the discarded wrapper from the chocolate on the end table at the foot of Michael’s couch before curling up and resting his head on his older brother’s lap. 

Michael made sure that Lucifer was covered with his favorite afghan and smoothed the blond hair back from his face. “Good job, little bro,” he praised. “I’m proud of you.” 

Lucifer gave a small smile and nestled his face into Michael’s fleece clad thigh. 

“Sleep, little brother,” Michael murmured, running a gentle hand up and down Lucifer’s bicep. “I’ll protect you.” 

Lucifer sighed in both content and discontent, before drifting off, worn out by the day’s events.

Michael waited until Lucifer was in a deep sleep, idly reading the stock market and answering a call from a client, before picking him up and carrying him to the spare bedroom. Pulling back the covers, he gently nestled Lucifer inside of it before covering him up. Lucifer simply snuggled deeper into the warmth, obviously happy about the comfort change, and Michael placed another chaste kiss on Lucifer’s skin. “Sweet dreams, little brother,” he whispered before quietly leaving to retire to his own bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after and Michael helps his little brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A F T E R C A R E

Lucifer woke up to the smell of Michael and the sun settling over his still-dressed form. Groaning, he threw back the covers and stood up. He stretched before walking over to the small bathroom next door, taking out his toothbrush and beginning to brush his teeth as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. 

Finished with his teeth, he used the toilet and he felt himself start to righten, go back into his strong and commanding mindset instead of the helpless waif he felt like when he finally gave in to a submissive urge and needed Michael’s strong, commanding nature. 

When his hands and face were washed, he walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where Michael was standing at the stove, making a lunch of some sort. A pot of coffee, freshly brewed, sat on the counter’s edge, and Lucifer moved towards it immediately. 

“Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” Michael teased good naturedly, smiling at his younger brother. “Sleep well?” 

Lucifer grunted, pouring his cup of coffee and taking a long sip from it. “Why are you talking to me before coffee?” he murmured harshly. 

“I’ll take that as ‘well, thanks, Michael’,” Michael chuckled, obviously not fazed by Lucifer’s unpleasant demeanor. “I’m making grilled cheese and tomato soup, I take you want five sandwiches with your bowl of soup.” 

Lucifer made an affirmative noise, sipping his coffee. 

Michael stirred the soup before setting the spoon down and walking over to Lucifer, adjusting his collar slightly. He knew how it bugged Lucifer to have it even the slightest bit off kilter. “How are you feeling?” he asked softly. 

“Better,” Lucifer admitted grudgingly. “Thanks.” 

“Anything for you, little brother,” Michael smiled softly. “Go sit on the couch, Evil Twins is on.”

Lucifer smiled and poured himself another cup of coffee before heading over and curling up on the couch. 

While he didn’t like being on his knees and obeying Michael’s orders, he enjoyed the day afterwards. When Michael took care of him like a sick person, and would make him soup and sandwiches and let him watch his crime documentaries, no matter how disgusting. On really bad days, Michael would put on a rerun or a DVR’d version of one of his favorite medical documentaries, such as Monsters Inside Me. It normally freaked Michael out, but when Lucifer was like this, needing him to be patient and understanding, he was willing to make the sacrifice of a non-iron stomach. 

Michael came out a few minutes later with a tray of two bowls of tomato soup and a stack of grilled cheese sandwiches. “There are ten sandwiches,” he told Lucifer. “Don’t eat them all.” 

Lucifer hummed and nodded. “Thanks,” he said, grabbing a sandwich and stuffing it into his mouth. “Now, shh, they’re talking about the defense these twins used.” 

Michael gave a small smile and shook his head in amusement, but remained silent at his brother’s request. 

 

It was later, when all but one sandwich was gone and only a meager bowl of soup remained, that Michael brought up the previous day. 

“I’ll put Sheriff Mills out, keep an eye on Tessa and Alastair’s oldest,” Michael said. “I’ll say an anonymous tip came in and I’d like for her to do some covert sneaking.” 

Lucifer nodded, reaching for the last sandwich and taking a bite out of it. “Sounds good. I won’t have to deal with him for quite some time, especially with Roman, Sanders, and Daemon all having court dates coming up.” 

“Do you know which one you’re going to have Sam help you on?” Michael asked. 

Lucifer nodded. “Sanders’ case. Roman’s and Daemon’s court dates are trial dates,” he explained. “Sanders is also more mild than Roman’s and Daemon’s.” 

Michael chuckled. “Remind me what those three cases are?” 

“Roman’s is the baby formula case,” Lucifer said, stretching out comfortably. “Daemon’s is that serial killing case. Sixteen little girls, all with their throats slashed.” 

Michael made a face. “Disgusting.” 

“She arranged them like little dolls, too,” Lucifer said. “The crime scene photos are truly spectacular.” 

“I’ll. . . take your word for it,” Michael said. “And Sanders?” 

“Murder of a wealthy businessman,” Lucifer said. “Strangulation, with her bare hands.” 

Michael raised a brow. 

“Trust me, she can do it,” Lucifer said with a chuckle. “Most of the followers on her case are actually Submissives. Say they want to get strangled by her.” 

Michael snorted. “Thank God you’re not like that.”

Lucifer made the sign of the cross. “Amen to that.” 

“That’ll be a good homicide case to start out on.” 

“I’m trying to get her to plead down from murder one to murder in the second,” Lucifer said. “The evidence as I’m seeing it says it wasn’t premeditated. She wants a trial, though. I personally think she just wants to show off to her adoring fans.”

Michael chuckled. “Sounds like a show off.” 

“Most women who are murderesses are,” Lucifer shrugged. “Part of the job.” 

Michael nodded. “I’ve noted that in my line of work as well,” he admitted. 

Lucifer sighed and leaned against Michael. “I hate this,” he murmured. 

Michael wrapped an arm around him and sighed. “I know, little brother,” he said. “I wish I could help out more.” 

“You do enough,” Lucifer insisted. “You do more than the rest of them.” 

Michael chuckled. “Well, let’s see. . . Raphael could possibly take you, but they don’t have the patience. Gabriel? Forget it. He’d get too impatient and end up hurting you.” 

Lucifer snorted. 

“Balthazar wouldn’t be able to always Dom when you need it, not with his Switching abilities,” Michael continued, “Anna would eat you alive. Castiel would  _ probably _ be the best after me, but he’s young. And his voice doesn’t scare you.”

“You don’t scare me,” Lucifer muttered petulantly. 

“I know,” Michael said with a laugh. “But I’m your older brother, it’s different.” 

“I suppose that’s true,” Lucifer sighed. Closing his eyes, he nestled into Michael more. 

Michael chuckled and hugged Lucifer closer. “You’re such a cuddler,” he said. “Whoever could’ve been your Dominant would’ve enjoyed this.” 

“I’m fine with this,” Lucifer sighed. “There’s no feelings, just brothers taking care of each other.” 

Michael smiled. “I suppose so,” he agreed. “Maybe on a friendship level, more platonic in nature. You can’t take care of my sexual desires, nor can I take care of yours, or your romantic desires.”

“I do  _ not  _ have romantic desires,” Lucifer laughed, shoving Michael playfully. 

“Lies,” Michael teased. “You’ve always been the romantic. Wanting someone to sweep you off your feet into endless cuddles. You crave the intimacy romance gives you. I know you, maybe better than you know yourself. And you’re a sweetheart of a Submissive who at the end of the day wants to curl up in a Dominant’s lap and feel loved and cherished.” 

Lucifer scowled. Michael was right, but. . . “You don’t have to say that,” he grumped. 

Michael ran his fingers through Lucifer’s hair. “You’ll either find them, or you won’t,” he said. “And no matter what you decide, I’ll always support you.”

Lucifer smiled a little. “Thanks, Mike.” 

“That’s what older brothers with zero sense of romance are for,” Michael chuckled, straightening Lucifer’s collar again. “Feeling better?” 

“Much.” It killed Lucifer to say that, but he was. He was feeling like his normal self again. “Thank you.” 

Michael hugged Lucifer close. “I know this is hard for you. I can’t imagine what goes through your mind every day. But, I’m here for you, Lucifer. Always.” 

Lucifer hugged Michael back, resting his head on his shoulder. “I know,” he murmured. “It’s so hard, Mike. So hard.” 

“And you’re strong. You’ll pull through this.” Michael kissed his forehead. “Forget about Alastair for now. Focus on your other cases. And focus on honing Sam’s ability. I read his report on the Azazel case. It was remarkable.” 

Lucifer nodded, smiling. “It was.” 

Michael patted Lucifer’s shoulder. “Go home. Get some sleep,” he said. “That’s an order as an older brother, not as a Dominant.” 

Lucifer chuckled and got up. Running his fingers through his hair, he leaned down and chastely kissed the top of Michael’s head. “Yes, Mike,” he murmured playfully before leaving. 

Michael dominating him always wore him out, and he hated it. But it was worth it, sometimes, to relax and have his older brother take care of him like he’d done when they were kids, before presentations mattered. 

Arriving at home, he ate some saltine crackers and shed his clothes. Crawling into bed under the covers, he turned off the lights and snuggled into his pillows. 

Sometimes, if only so he wasn’t alone, he wished for a Dominant. Someone to hold at night and whisper sweet things into his ear as he drifted off, or to fuck him into orgasm. 

But he’s never had that. He’s always been too aloof, seeming like he didn’t want any part of that. He was a loner, the Dom always on the outside, looking in, suppressing Submissive desires the entire time.

Michael knew, of course, but he knew the struggle that Lucifer went through, the Submissive desiring to not be one, even though it was in his genes, and in his heart. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An office memo makes Lucifer panic and lash out.

Lucifer logged onto his email Wednesday morning to find a memo from an unidentifiable source within the firm. It’s not an unusual thing, it’s usually when things have gone missing from the breakroom. 

But this one. . . Lucifer squinted at the subject line, which read ‘Submissives in the Workplace’. 

His blood went icy in his veins and he clicked open the email hesitantly. 

 

**To Everyone:**

 

**Please keep in mind that Submissives can be easily spooked by simple things, such as reading the subject line of this memo, and that they should be calmed in the usual manner, which is usually submission of some sort.**

**Many people who work here are Submissives, especially concerning L. Alighieri’s part of the firm, and as a result, this is merely a reminder of such things.**

**If the Submissive is unattached, it doesn’t matter if you ask for permission -- they need that Dominance, so give it to them, if you can.**

 

**A Concerned Employee.**

 

Lucifer growled softly and pulled up the keylogger for every single computer in the workplace, dialing Meg’s extension as he did so. 

“Meg, do I have any appointments today? None? Good. I’m in the office. I’m unavailable to  _ everyone  _ but Michael, do you understand? Good.” 

Slamming the phone down on the receiver, he began to type the algorithm needed to discover what  _ everyone  _ had been typing, starting from the top. Michael: reports, himself: the algorithm, Raphael: a message to Julian about the child, Gabriel: a message to Kali concerning last night’s punishment for sneaking out without even leaving a note or a babysitter (Lucifer frowned at that; Kali needed better impulse control, it would seem). With Balthazar, it had been what seemed to be a bunch of different messages to his twelve different lovers, all varying in tone. “How does he keep up with how to address who and tone and all that?” he wondered not for the first time. Anna it was a stern, yet loving message to Ruby about making sure she cleaned up after work with a winky face emoticon at the end. Castiel. . . was messaging Meg. On the company server. About their date. 

“I haven’t seen proof, baby brother,” he murmured. 

He began to systematically go through everyone else’s keystrokes, sighing as the algorithm worked. He went over contracts in the meantime and reworked his filing cabinet. 

When he surfaced around lunchtime for his coffee refill and lunch of Panera salads, everyone ran and hid. One look at the stormy face of the lawyer meant everyone’s next few keystrokes or text messages were something along the lines of  _ El Diablo is Has Risen. Run.  _

It was a nice feeling, knowing that people were afraid of him, afraid of his temper. It did help quell his sour mood as he grabbed coffee and a salad before he headed back to his office. 

He settled back in, reading lines of code and keystrokes as he ate, drank coffee, and answered the phone a few times. 

Michael knocked just as the keystrokes of the memo appeared in the lines of code. 

“Come in,” Lucifer said, his hands flying over his keyboard to use a new algorithm to find the source. Whoever sent the memo had done so under an anonymous name and title, meaning that any one of the more public computers in the firm could have been used. 

“Are you okay? I noticed you were monitoring my key strokes,” Michael said, walking over. 

“Did you see the memo from an unidentifiable source?” Lucifer growled lowly under his breath as he barely raised his eyes from his work. 

“Ummm. . . No?” Michael sounded confused. 

Lucifer finally looked at his older brother. “Would it kill you to check your email more often than once every six months?” he snapped, irritation plain on his face. 

“I do,” Michael said, sounding a little offended. 

“Well, apparently today was a bad day to check it, wasn’t it, so you didn’t even log into it,” Lucifer grumbled, returning to his lines of code and typing furiously, swearing as he had to backspace. 

“Lucifer, what’s going on?” Michael asked calmly, sitting down in the chair on the visiting side of Lucifer’s desk. 

Lucifer sighed, minimized his coding tab, and pulled up the email. He printed it and returned to coding. “Check the printer,” he commanded. 

“Bossy,” Michael teased him, attempting to lighten the mood. 

Lucifer only shot him a glare. 

“Who the fuck decided to piss in your egg sandwich today?” Michael asked, picking the email up and out of the printer. Reading it, his face turned from one of ‘what’s going on?’ to ‘I’m going to murder someone and get away with it.’ “Who sent this?” he demanded. 

“That’s why I’m doing the keystrokes monitoring,” Lucifer explained. “I found that someone used a fictitious name and title at one of the library computers, so I’m now tracing everything back to that computer and seeing who was logged into their administrative email at the time. Or, I will be, when I finish with the next three lines of code.” 

Michael nodded and walked over, placing a firm hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Lucifer,” he murmured. “We’ll find them, and we’ll punish them. You know how it is. This can be viewed as a form of harassment. You should’ve gone to HR.” 

“And deal with Missouri? Michael, are you out of your goddamn mind?” Lucifer asked, finishing the lines of code and clicking to run the algorithm. Standing, he faced his brother, face as hard as flint and fear rampant in his eyes. 

Michael studied his younger brother. “Maybe, but this is a concern about not just you, but every one of your employees, and anyone else who has a Submissive working for them,” he said calmly, firmly. “If you’d like, I can do it for you.” 

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll deal with the slimeball who sent this message myself,” Lucifer snarled. “I’ll rip them to shreds. I’ll hack off their limbs and place their bloody carcass in my office as a warning to those who disrespect the Submissive presentation. I’ll keep their tongue nice and wet so that when I need to seal my envelopes I can, it’s the only thing it’d be good for instead of spreading this filth.” 

Michael squeezed Lucifer’s shoulder. “Breathe,” he commanded. 

“I am breathing. How the fuck else would I be talking?” Lucifer growled. “I will skin them alive.” 

Michael gave Lucifer a look. “How about you shut your mouth,” he said in a soft voice, “sit down, and actually inhale through your nose and use your mouth to exhale and not in the form of words?” 

“You’re not my Dominant, Michael,” Lucifer snapped. “Stop treating me like I’m a fragile person!”

“I am your employer, though, and your superior,” Michael said, raising his voice slightly, “And I will suspend you until I feel like it if I want to. So I’d advise you do as I say, shut up and breathe.” 

Lucifer stared at Michael, chest heaving and face flushed. 

“I know you’re scared,” Michael continued, gently easing Lucifer back into his chair. “I know you’re angry. I am too. But we won’t be able to handle this situation if you don’t calm down and think rationally. So sit, breathe, and I will be right back.” He left the room. 

Lucifer felt hot. His face was flushed red and his clothes were sticking to him. He tried to concentrate on breathing but he couldn’t. He rolled his chair into his desk and rested his forehead on top of his desk calendar, closing his eyes. The collar felt heavier than it did any other day, and he longed to rip it off and throw it away, consequences be damned. Fuck this. Fuck presentations. Fuck  _ everything.  _

This memo and the way that it was worded meant that this person  _ knew  _ he was a Submissive, knew that he had the longing on occasion to be on his knees, to be taken care of. This person knew that sometimes, all Lucifer wanted to do was have zero control. 

This person was now the most dangerous person to Lucifer, and he’s the lawyer of murderers and rapists, some of whom had promised to murder him when they lost a case and were lead away, screaming obscenities and promising harm to Lucifer. 

Michael returned and sighed. Locking the door behind him, he walked over to his younger brother and ran the fingers of his free hand through Lucifer’s blond hair. “Hey, Luce? It’s me, Mike. You doing okay?” he asked softly. 

Lucifer hesitated. He didn’t want to tell Michael no, he wasn’t okay.

“Little bro,” Michael murmured, “You can tell me.”

Lucifer slowly shook his head, not raising it. 

Michael nodded and set the dark blue mug in his hand down. “Alright, little bro,” he murmured. “The door’s locked, do you want me to undo your tie and shirt? You might feel better.” 

Lucifer shook his head again. 

“Okay, that’s fine, you don’t have to,” Michael soothed. “Sit up for me, I got your favorite tea.” 

Lucifer slowly raised his head, the red rimmed eyes and wobbling lip making him look much younger than he was. 

“Shh, Luce,” Michael murmured lovingly. He hated seeing Lucifer like this. “Can you hold your own tea, or do I need to hold it for you?” 

“I can,” Lucifer said hoarsely, voice filled with the unshed tears. 

“Alright,” Michael said, gently picking up the mug and pressing it into Lucifer’s hands. 

The younger lawyer’s hands trembled, but he was able to hold the mug mostly steady, and he took a small sip of the hot tea. 

“There we go,” Michael murmured softly. “That’s it, little bro. Breathe and drink your tea. Don’t try to talk. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

Lucifer nodded and kept sipping his tea, the computer program whirring in the background and the only other sounds being Michael’s soft breathing. 

Swallowing the last bit of tea, Lucifer looked up at Michael. The flush in his face was gone, and the red around his eyes dimmed to a light pink, but it was clear he was still upset. 

“Do you want to go home?” Michael asked softly. 

Lucifer nodded. He felt tired, drained. 

The program beeped, indicating it had found Lucifer’s tormentor, and he looked at the screen before giving a hysterical little laugh. 

“Of course, I should’ve known,” he giggled. 

Michael leaned over Lucifer’s shoulder and groaned. 

 

**FERGUS CROWLEY**

 

“I told you he would figure it out, that transferring him wouldn’t do anything,” Lucifer said through another fit of giggles. 

Michael minimized the program and logged him out. “C’mon, Lucifer, I’ll take you home,” he said. 

“But Mikey,” Lucifer laughed, “then you can’t get back to your own home. Your tiny little condo.” He hiccupped and Michael sighed. 

“Next time I’m putting a sedative in your tea,” he mumbled as he stood Lucifer up. “Behave, and I’ll find a way back to the firm. I want to get you home and in bed. Tomorrow we can figure out how best to out Crowley and where he got his information.” 

“Maybe he’s a demon,” Lucifer giggled, leaning heavily on Michael. 

“I think I prefer you when you’re drunk,” Michael grumbled as he helped Lucifer out of his office. 

“Oooohhhh, drunk, let’s get drunk, Michael!” Lucifer laughed, clinging to Michael like a koala on crack. “Please?” 

Michael sighed, not answering as he somehow managed to sneak Lucifer out of the firm and into his car, stuffing him in the backseat unceremoniously. “Where are your keys, Lucifer?” he asked patiently. 

Lucifer pointed to his pocket, starting to feel a little subdued. 

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Michael asked as he gently withdrew his little brother’s keys. “As a brother.” 

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. 

Michael smiled and squeezed Lucifer’s thigh before closing the door, and going to the driver’s seat. Turning the car on, he headed towards Lucifer’s apartment. 

It was going to be a long few weeks. Michael prayed quietly to himself that something would snap Lucifer out of his potentially foul mood and make him relax. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer's foul mood makes Sam snap, and a fight accidentally reveals a secret.

Lucifer, over the course of the next few days, was even more cranky than usual. 

Between the Roman trial coming up and finding out about Crowley possibly knowing his true presentation, he was in a state of constant anger and worry. The slightest thing could set him off. He reduced Raphael to near tears when they accidentally messed up how his pens were set up on his desk; he  _ did  _ make Gabriel cry when he found a spring loaded glitter bomb pen, something he would’ve normally chuckled over. He was even bitter towards a smirking Castiel, who had produced Meg’s panties a couple days later, and threw his trench coat at him before barking at him to get the hell out of his office. 

Michael was having increased difficulties controlling his brother’s mood, and was getting to the point of redirecting all of Lucifer’s clients to other lawyers, packing Lucifer into a suitcase, and mailing him to the Bahamas. It was a rather attractive idea, but he knew how stubborn Lucifer was. 

Lucifer was scared, more than angry. He was lashing out like an abused animal, refusing help and kindness to anyone who dared approach him. Even Meg, used to dealing with her boss’ mood swings, was starting to avoid him, unable to help and feeling frustrated about it. 

A week after receiving the memo, he and Sam were going over the Sanders’ case after hours, Sam reading over Lucifer’s and his case notes while Lucifer tapped moodily at the keyboard. Surprisingly, Sam didn’t seem that badly affected by Lucifer’s increasingly anxious and angry mannerisms. Everyone was gone, except for them. Even the cleaning crew had come and gone. 

Sam frowned slightly, sliding over a page of Lucifer’s notes and tapping the word with a black pen above the red ink. “What word is this supposed to be?” he asked softly, politely. 

Lucifer scowled at the word on the page before glaring at Sam. “Can’t you see it’s  _ obviously  _ ‘asphyxiation’?” he snapped. “God, what  _ do  _ they teach you at Stanford these days?” 

“What the fuck is UP with you?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer blinked. It was the first time he’d  _ ever  _ heard the young lawyer swear. “What do you mean?” he asked harshly. 

“I mean, you’ve been snapping at everyone like you’re a Rottweiler with injuries and won’t allow anyone near you,” Sam said, leaning over the desk and getting into Lucifer’s personal space. “Won’t allow them to even  _ attempt  _ to help you. How long has Meg been your secretary? I bet you can count on one hand the amount of times she’s ever deliberately stayed away from you because you’re acting even  _ more  _ like a pretentious, know it all prick.”

Lucifer knew Sam was right. This was only the second time that Meg’d ever avoided him because of his behavior. “So?” he sneered. “Comes with the job, Winchester, either deal with it or quit.” 

“But that’s the thing,” Sam said, walking around the desk and looking at Lucifer dead in the eye, “This isn’t typical of the job. Yeah, you act like an ass when you get coffee dumped on you or whatnot, but never like this. Remember, I’ve been following your cases since I was 22. I know what’s normal for you and what’s not. And this? This assholish, holier-than-thou, can’t-you-see-I’m-a-major-dick attitude? This isn’t normal. Something is pissing into your Cheerio’s, and I’ve got the feeling you ain’t into drinkin’ piss.” 

Lucifer raised a brow, feeling the vein in his temple throb. The room was getting hot. Figuring Sam wouldn’t be able to see the collar if he removed part of his tie, he loosened it, trying to bring his body temperature back down. He lifted his crop off his belt loop and brought it to the side of Sam’s face. The Dominant stared at him defiantly, not even flinching. 

“Do you really think you can scare me with that?” Sam asked softly. 

“Not meant to scare, just reminding you who’s in charge,” Lucifer said. “You will speak to me respectfully, do you understand?” 

“I will speak to you respectfully when you get your head out of its shitty vacation spot that is your ass,” Sam snipped. 

Lucifer stood, mentally cursing the fact that Sam was a couple inches taller than him, eyes hard. “What did you say?” he asked in a soft, dangerous tone.

“You heard me,” Sam said, lifting his chin. “When you decide to stop being an asshole and let  _ anyone,  _ for fuck’s sake,  _ near you _ to help you, as you’re obviously anxious and upset about something, I will treat you with respect again. But right now all you are is a rage driven teenager who’s just been told he can’t have the car this weekend because Mom and Dad found him in the backseat drunk and fucking some random chick he found at the bar that gave him illegal drinks.” 

Lucifer growled, tapping Sam’s cheek firmly with the crop. “Watch your tone,” he commanded. 

Suddenly, a foreign feeling came on his cheek, and he looked sidelong at Sam’s black crop, the leather on his cheek. “How about,” the younger lawyer murmured, “you watch yours? I’m not some Submissive or Switch that you feel needs to be cowed. I am a Dominant, same as you, and I will be treated with some modicum of respect.” 

Lucifer wasn’t sure what to think at the moment. The crop felt somewhat. . . good on his cheek like this, comforting even. He mentally shook himself out of it as he glared at Sam. “I will give you respect when you give me some,” he snarled. 

Sam’s crop moved to underneath his chin, tilting his head up. Lucifer angrily snapped it back down, smacking the younger man’s cheek with his crop with enough force to make a bright pink mark. 

Sam snapped his head back to glare at Lucifer. The older man wasn’t expecting for the other crop to smack down on the sensitive spot just below his ear. Hissing, he aimed for a snap at Sam’s wrist, only to find the inside of his own smacked harshly.

Sam Winchester wielded the crop as only a Dominant could. Lucifer’s had experience, sure. Michael taught him how to use the crop as an extension of his body. It’s not the first time he’s felt welts raise up on his skin, either. It’d been a long time, though. 

Sam’s hits weren’t meant to invoke rage or excitement, though. They were meant to catch him off guard, to make him slow down. 

He gave it as good as he got, needing to outsmart and outcrop the younger man, needing to keep his Dominant facade up. 

His trousers were tightening a little bit with each smack of crop on skin, didn’t matter whose it was and he mentally scowled at the feeling of arousal creeping over.  _ Not now, you fool,  _ he grumbled, doing fast strikes to the inside of Sam’s elbow, wrist, and right where his fingers wrapped around the crop. 

He wasn’t expecting for the lightning quick grab of his crop with a large hand. Sam twisted his wrist one way, making Lucifer’s go in a highly uncomfortable direction. Gritting his teeth, Lucifer held on as much as he could, ignoring the burning in his muscles. 

Sam gave the crop a solid jerk, and it fell through Lucifer’s fingers. He watched as Sam tossed the crop to the side and moved closer. 

Before Lucifer could react, Sam had grabbed his shirt collar and was jerking him forward. 

“Check, and mate,” Sam murmured, his breath smelling like mints and coffee, before pushing Lucifer away from him. Lucifer stumbled backwards, hearing his shirt rip and he growled, staring at the bit of expensive white cloth in Sam’s large hand. 

“That,” he snarled, “is coming out of your next paycheck.”

Sam, however, had gone completely still, staring at Lucifer’s neck. 

“Is there something on my neck, Winchester?” he snapped, not really comprehending in the heat of the tense moment what had happened. 

“I believe there is,” Sam said softly. 

That’s when it hit Lucifer. 

It hit him like an out of control eighteen wheeler.

His shirt had ripped. . . Which meant that there was nothing to hide the thin black collar on his neck. Not buttons, not a tie, not even a measly T-shirt. 

The white had given away to the black, as if purity gave way to darkness. His shield had been taken away, and now. . . 

Sam Winchester had found out his greatest secret, his biggest shame.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam soothes Lucifer

Lucifer stared at Sam, who was still staring at the leather covering Lucifer’s throat, no ring attached, and in perfect order. 

He now needed to do a couple of things. First, find a legitimate reason to fire Sam Winchester. It’d be difficult, sure, but he was confident he could find  _ something  _ that was a sackable offense. 

He then needed to find a time machine. He didn’t care if it was the Delorean or the T.A.R.D.I.S. or what. He needed to find a time machine, go back in time, and prevent himself from reaching his sixteenth birthday. 

_ Is it murder or suicide then?  _ he wondered to himself as he watched Sam tentatively approach him. He ducked his head down, averting his gaze and hiding the black leather that he hated. 

“Lucifer?” Sam’s voice was now calm, gentle, meant to soothe and yet command. It was the voice of a Dominant seeking to soothe a skittish Submissive. Lucifer’s affected this voice many times in his life, but never had it directed at him. Well, Michael’s used it, but never like this. There was a tenderness in Sam’s voice, a contriteness. “Lucifer, come here.” 

Lucifer lifted his gaze to view the fact that Sam was now sitting in his chair -- HIS OFFICE CHAIR! -- and patting his knee lightly. 

Lucifer shook his head. He wasn’t going to. He couldn’t.  _ Dominance in all things; Submission in none. _

“Lucifer,” Sam said in a softer tone. “Come on. Kneel by me.”

He shook his head more violently. “No,” he whispered. 

“I promise, it’ll make you feel better,” Sam coaxed. “You need this. Your body’s shaking with it.”

He shook his head again. “No, I don’t,” he said firmly. 

“Lucifer.” Sam’s tone was firm, but not unkind. “You do. I can see how much you do. Do not lie to me, little one.” 

Lucifer made a choked noise in the back of his throat at the nickname.  _ Little one.  _ It was a term of highest affection, from a Dominant to a Submissive, or even a Dominant to a subby-feeling Switch. He didn’t want to admit that it warmed his cold heart to hear that be used on him. “I’m not,” he said defiantly. 

Sam sighed, and soon, his lap was in much closer view and Lucifer looked at Sam’s face in alarm at the proximity. 

“Denial’s not going to get you anywhere, Lucifer,” he said softly. “I’m not asking for this to be a full time thing. What I’m asking is for you to allow me to take care of you right now. I’m the only Dominant in the building right now-- hell, we’re the only  _ people  _ in the building right now. Let me help you.” 

“I don’t  _ need  _ help!” Lucifer snapped, trying to draw back further from Sam but running into his desk with his tailbone. He hissed under his breath. “I don’t  _ need  _ to be on my knees!” 

“Shh,” Sam said softly. “It’s okay. I know you’re scared. I know you’re hurt. I know you don’t want this on the surface. Believe me, I know how hard it is for you to even  _ let  _ me see what’s around your neck, much less have that taken from you. I know you’re lashing out because something happened and you’re trying to take care of it. But you’re hurting everyone around you, little one, because no one is helping you. Let me help you now.” 

How was Sam so damn  _ patient  _ and  _ understanding _ ? Lucifer couldn’t fathom it. Here they were, and it was obvious that Lucifer was going to fight everything Sam asked of him. And yet, Sam was still speaking in that low, soothing tone.

“Why?” he asked harshly, trying to invoke another fight. He needed to prove he could hold his own, that he didn’t need a Dominant, hasn’t needed one for eighteen, almost nineteen years, and he certainly didn’t need one now. “What makes  _ you  _ think that  _ I  _ need help?”

“The way you’re acting,” Sam said simply. “You’re acting like a cornered animal, hissing and snarling at anyone who comes near you. You’re fighting  _ so hard  _ against what you need that it’s affecting everyone around you. You could very well lose a case because of how you’re acting and reacting, and that’d smear your reputation. These are huge cases, Lucifer, and you’ve been at them like a dog with a bone for the past couple of weeks. You’ve come in earlier, you’ve stayed later. The Lucifer Alighieri I started working for wouldn’t have had snapped when I asked a question, especially one where it concerns something  _ you  _ did that I couldn’t decipher.” Sam brought the paper in question closer and handed it to Lucifer. “Even your handwriting’s being affected by this. You’re lashing out. You’re hurting. You’re scared. You need comfort. You need someone to control you, even if it’s just for a while. You  _ should  _ be on your knees, and I’m willing to provide that, with no strings attached, except for maybe a follow up talk.”

Lucifer snatched the paper out of Sam’s hands and looked it over. His normally elegant, pristine writing now resembled something that looked vaguely like a doctor’s prescription, or maybe something Castiel wrote-- his littlest brother had the  _ worst  _ handwriting in the world. And he had to admit, Sam had several valid points. He wouldn’t have snapped when Sam asked for clarification on something three weeks ago. 

He set the paper down and looked at Sam. “I don’t want this,” he whispered. His voice was now soft, scared. 

“Why?” Sam asked gently. “Is it because you’ve been acting as a Dominant for so long, you don’t want to face what you are?” 

Lucifer shook his head. “I don’t want to be Submissive. I hate it.” 

“So you’ve been on your knees before.” It was a statement, not a question. 

Lucifer nodded. “For Michael,” he mumbled. “Just simple follow orders and kneeling for him. But I hate it even then.” 

Sam nodded. He reached for Lucifer’s hand, taking it and squeezing it. “Michael does it out of brotherly love and he knows you need it, no matter how hard you fight it,” he said softly. “I want to do this, out of concern and the need to soothe you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, admitting you need to be taken care of. That’s what this is, Lucifer. Being selfish and taking care of yourself, by allowing someone else to take care of you.”

Lucifer trembled, whimpering softly. He didn’t, no, he didn’t want this, it  _ was  _ something to be ashamed of, he doesn’t  _ need  _ anyone to take care of him, not even Sam with his soulful puppy eyes that go in a kaleidoscope of colors and gentle tone. 

Sam stood up, still holding Lucifer’s hand, and he rested his free hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “Are you going to go down on your own, or am I going to have to force you?” he asked softly.

A hot tear leaked out of Lucifer’s eye and traveled down his face. He reached up to angrily dash it away, but Sam stopped him and gently brushed it from his cheek. “Please, Lucifer,” he whispered. “Let me help you.”

Slowly, with a few more tears rolling down his face, Lucifer kneeled in front of Sam. 

“Shh, little one,” Sam murmured, sitting back down in his office chair-- no one BUT Lucifer’s ever sat in that chair, not even Michael has that privilege-- and coming closer. “That’s it, so good. You did very well, Lucifer.” 

Pride and anguish welled up in his chest and he let out a distressed cough, ducking his head into his elbow as he did so. It was a different feeling, being on his knees in front of Sam. Michael demanded obedience, quick and simple, and punishment was swift if he didn’t comply. Sam demanded obedience, but it was quieter, soothing. It was understanding that the hand that punishes can be gentle as well as firm. It was the feeling of being understood in a certain way, almost. 

But he didn’t want this. He didn’t need to be on his knees in front of Sam. He didn’t WANT to be on his knees. 

His head was pushed gently down, and Lucifer’s wet cheek met Sam’s thigh. Freezing, he looked up at Sam, who was looking down at him with a comforting smile, and began running his fingers through his hair. 

_ This is new,  _ Lucifer thought. Michael enjoyed cuddling, sure, but it was so platonic, and it was clear to Lucifer that Michael was only doing it because Lucifer needed it, craved it. Romantically needed it. Michael was born scoffing at romance and the idea of being in love with a person for their attributes and not because of sexual chemistry. He sneered at rom-coms and disliked anything that had to do with being intimate not of a sexual nature. Aromantic, it was called, and Lucifer recalled that when he told his brother that at eighteen, after doing hours of research and Michael spending his teenaged years wondering if something was wrong with him, that he couldn’t see romance, and disliked everything about it, that Michael wept with joy at realizing  _ this was normal.  _ It was a perfectly normal, natural thing. 

But Lucifer  _ did  _ like romance, did like the idea of finding love. He just kept himself from it, telling himself that he was play acting and you can’t hide something as big as your presentation from your partner. It wouldn’t have been fair to anyone. 

Sam’s fingers in his hair, running through the silk soft strands, soothed Lucifer more than any blue vervain tea could, more than any massage. It was intimate, scarily so, and Lucifer tried to fight against it, fight against the content feeling bubbling through him with each pass and feeling Sam’s thigh gently flex underneath his cheek, but he couldn’t. It felt too good. He could feel the tension draining out of him.

It was a long while before Lucifer slowly lifted his head to look at Sam. The tears were gone, as was most of the tension, and Lucifer wasn’t sure what was next. 

“Hungry?” Sam asked softly, still stroking Lucifer’s hair. 

Lucifer thought about it and nodded, resisting the urge to lean into Sam’s hand and nuzzle it like a cat. 

Sam stopped stroking him and Lucifer returned his head to the younger man’s lap, closing his eyes briefly. He could almost feel Sam’s pulse, strong and steady, through the slacks and skin. 

“Lift your head, Lucifer,” Sam said, and Lucifer did, blinking.  _ Where did Sam get chocolate? _

He watched as Sam broke a piece off-- oh, that’s dark chocolate, Sam found the way to his stomach-- and held it out for Lucifer. 

Lucifer reached for it, but Sam snatched the morsel away, laughing quietly. 

“Use your mouth,” he instructed. 

Lucifer threw an I’m-Not-Amused face up at the Dominant, who chuckled. 

“I’m hand feeding you, whether you like it or not,” Sam said gently, but firmly. “Now eat.”

Lucifer slowly, reluctantly, leaned in and ate the chocolate out of Sam’s hand, chewing on it as he watched Sam break off another bite and eat it himself. 

“There we go, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sam asked softly. 

Lucifer shrugged, accepting the next bit of chocolate with little to no fuss, not when Sam ran his fingers through Lucifer’s hair again. 

Sam alternated between eating the chocolate himself and feeding Lucifer. He praised Lucifer each time, running his fingers through his hair and even scratching at the base of his neck. Lucifer really wished that it hadn’t made him melt into Sam, but it felt  _ so good.  _ He couldn’t fight it. 

The chocolate was gone, and Sam looked at the time, sighing. 

“I have to go,” he told Lucifer regretfully. “Dean and Benny are expecting me for dinner, and it’s almost on the table. And Benny’s old school Southern. If you’re not there when supper’s served, you starve.” 

Lucifer gave a chuckle and sighed. “Okay,” he said. “I understand.” 

“I’m going to call Michael,” Sam said, pointing to the phone, “and I’m having him pick you up. I want you to go clean up in the bathroom, put on a fresh shirt. We’ll come in tomorrow, on our day off, to talk. We have a lot to talk about, I feel.” 

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah, I can agree to that,” he said. He stood up, stretching.

Sam also stood up, and pressed Lucifer’s head to his shoulder. He could smell Sam’s somewhat cheap cologne, starting to wear off, and frowned at the welt forming on his pulse point. “How are you going to explain why there’s welts?” he asked. 

Sam chuckled. “Things got heated at the office.” He squeezed Lucifer into a hug. “You did well. I know that wasn’t easy for you.” 

“I think resting my head on your lap is easy,” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “A dog does that. And you hand fed me, as if I were an infant. I’m not an infant, Sam. I’m a thirty four year old lawyer who eats people like you for a midnight snack.” 

Sam laughed and ruffled Lucifer’s hair. “You know what I mean, Lucifer. Go get cleaned up. Don’t make me do it for you.” 

“You’re not my parental unit,” Lucifer grumbled.

“I  _ will  _ smack your ass if you don’t get moving, Mr. Alighieri,” Sam said. 

Lucifer scowled, pushing Sam away and stalking off to the bathroom. He wasn’t going to admit how attractive he found that idea. 

Finding a spare shirt, he unbuttoned his ruined shirt and listened in on Sam’s phone conversation with Michael. He was surprised to hear that Sam didn’t mention the submission he had just done or anything. He just said that Lucifer had a bit of a tantrum (that, he had to admit, was a good explanation of the crop fight and the shouting match) and that he was calmer now, but Sam didn’t trust him driving, so could he come pick Lucifer up? He’d drop Lucifer off, but he’s missing dinner with his brother and brother-in-law. He knew Michael said yes-- Michael had the worst time telling Lucifer no-- and Sam sent his gratitude before hanging up. He then dialed another number as Lucifer washed his face free of tear tracks. 

It was to Dean, saying he was going to be a few minutes late, he got into a fight at the office. No, he wasn’t going to say why. Yes, he’ll be there in the next half an hour. Rolling his eyes, he hung up as Lucifer came out of the bathroom. 

“You didn’t tell Michael I submitted,” he said softly. 

Sam shook his head, fixing Lucifer’s tie for him. “No. I figured we could keep that between us, and it wasn’t my place to tell,” he said softly. 

Lucifer batted at Sam’s hands. “I’m not an invalid,” he grumbled. 

Sam chuckled. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said. “Michael will be here soon, but I’ve gotta run. Will you be okay?” 

“Why are you still in my face when you could be missing dinner?” Lucifer grouched. 

Sam laughed happily. “I’ll be here at ten, come whenever,” he said casually. He ran his fingers through Lucifer’s hair once more before leaving, picking his briefcase up and off the desk. 

Lucifer watched him go, before sitting down at his desk and picking everything up that had gotten messed up or knocked off in the scuffle. He walked over to the window, where Sam had flung his crop, and picked it up. He looked down into the parking lot, watching Sam’s dark colored sedan leave. 

He ran his fingers over his crop, thinking about what just happened. He knew he had welts, expertly placed ones, on his face, arms, and neck. 

Michael appeared a few minutes later, and whistled lowly as Lucifer approached him. “I guess I know part of what happened,” he said, running a finger along the welt under his left ear. 

“I just wanna go home, Mike,” Lucifer said. “It’s been a long day.” 

Michael nodded and wrapped a brotherly arm around Lucifer’s shoulders. “I’ll take you home.” 

 

Lucifer walked into his apartment in a sort of daze. He didn’t tell Michael what happened, and Michael didn’t ask. He just told Lucifer to let him know how he was doing over the weekend before driving off. 

Kicking off his shoes, he made himself a quick ham and cheese sandwich to munch on before undressing completely and turning out his lights, despite it only being ten at night. He skipped his nightcap completely. 

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever fallen asleep quicker, or more soundly. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Lucifer talk, and Sam spills a few secrets of his own.

Lucifer arrived the next day at fifteen to ten, and logged onto his computer, doing some paperwork. He also called the florist, asking for flowers to be delivered to Gabriel, Raphael, and Castiel as apologies for his horrendous attitude and behavior. He’ll apologize to them in person tomorrow. 

The door to his office opened at precisely ten, and he looked up to see Sam take a seat across from him. 

“One moment, I want to finish this email,” he said politely. 

“Take whatever time you need,” Sam said with a warm smile. Lucifer couldn’t help but give one in return. 

Finishing the email, he clicked send and turned to Sam, fidgeting. He wasn’t looking forward to this.

“ I had a feeling that you were hiding something when we were doing the pool party with the Picassos," Sam said softly. "You may've been as cool as could be when talking to them, but there was certainly a nervousness about you, and now, I can see why. And I can't imagine how difficult that was for you, to hold all that stress in, not to mention the absolute hate about Submissives Alastair was spewing out.”

Lucifer shifted uncomfortably, remembering that day. He now wished that he could've gone back in time and declined. He would’ve lost a client but dammit, he wasn’t sure if he cared at this point.

Sam continued. "And then you were jumpy all week; I thought Alastair had just rubbed you the wrong way, and then that memo had you defensive for your Submissive employees.  But after last night, the fight… I had all night to go over it, and it just clicked how much you’ve reminded me of Dean all week.  How he was before he found his Dominant.”

Lucifer groaned, burying his face into his hands. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Preferably by snake or scorpion venom. Maybe both. Would that kill him faster, or slower?

"Lucifer," Sam said, leaning across the table. "This doesn't change a damn thing. You're still my boss; the fact that you're actually a Submissive is not an issue."    
"But you're a Dominant," Lucifer said harshly. "It should."    
"But it doesn't," Sam insisted softly. "You're my employer and you know more about this firm than I can ever hope to. You're a fantastic lawyer in your own right. The only problem is you bottle everything up and let it out in anger and overcompensation."

Lucifer's nostrils flared. He wasn’t a fan of having his flaws being so harshly brought to light, the flaws that have helped him keep up the appearance of being a Dominant.

"What's the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?" Sam asked.

The seemingly unrelated question caught Lucifer off guard. "Beg your pardon?" he asked in disbelief.

"First thing you do when you wake up," Sam repeated calmly.

Lucifer gave him a scathing look. "I turn off my alarm. Duh."

"After that?” Sam asked.

“Get the fuck out of bed.” Lucifer stared at Sam. What did this have to do with anything?

“And what do you do after you get out of bed?”

"Go to the bathroom,” Lucifer rolled his eyes.

"As in. . ." Sam waited for Lucifer to clarify.

"I walk into the fucking bathroom," the older lawyer snapped. Could they be done with playing Twenty Questions already?

"And the first thing you do in the bathroom?" Apparently not. Sam Winchester would’ve made a good interrogator.

"I take off my collar."

"How long do you leave your collar off for?"

“As long as I can,” Lucifer snarked.

“What’s your record for not forcing yourself to endure it?” 

The questions still seemed unrelated to what they were talking about, but Lucifer figured indulging his younger employee wouldn’t be too much of an issue. It’s not like the man hadn’t irritated him or anything by now. "Forty-five minutes, thirty-five minutes longer than average."

Sam gave an impressed nod. 

“What do these questions have to do with anything?” Lucifer asked. 

"How often do you get on your knees for Michael?" Lucifer wasn’t going to be getting answers yet, it seemed. He sighed. 

"Three times a month. No more, no less,” he replied. It’d only been four times in a month on three separate occasions since Lucifer presented and they fell into this arrangement, and he didn’t like thinking about those times. He also tried his hardest to make it through a month  _ without  _ getting on his knees for Michael. It still hasn’t happened. 

"Did it feel better when you were on your knees for me?" Sam asked gently.

Lucifer thought about that. It did, but he didn’t want to admit that. That was too much for him to handle. "Maybe. I don't know. I just remember not wanting to do it,” he said, shrugging.

"Why?" Sam asked. 

"Because I'm. . . I'm not supposed to be a Submissive. I'm supposed to be a Dominant.” He looked at Sam as though he were the stupidest man alive. 

Sam rested a gentle, yet firm hand on Lucifer's arm. "Have you ever felt right with a crop in your hand? Does it feel like it should belong, not the collar? Does it stress you out more having the collar on you than the collar off?"

Lucifer blinked at him. He wasn’t sure he's ever been asked these questions. "I. . . I don't understand the questions," he admitted. 

"The crop's always felt great in your hand. You feel like a Dominant," Sam explained gently. "But if it were to be moved away from you, and you didn't have it, does it cause you distress?"

Lucifer thought it over. “Not. . . distress like you would classify it,” he admitted. “It’s more of. . . I’m distressed because I don’t have it, people are going to assume I’m a Switch, or worse, a Submissive, and they’re not going to treat me properly, with the right respect. I’m distressed because there goes everything I want and desire. Everything I need.” 

“It’s the distress of having to be true to yourself, and not being able to play the facade accurately,” Sam surmised. 

Lucifer nodded. “I don’t want to be Submissive,” he admitted. “The day I presented, I wanted to die. I cried. I am the first Alighieri male to present as Submissive in four generations, it’s usually the women.” He took a ragged breath. “Michael convinced Father to still let me go to law school and the like, thinking it might help me adapt easier. I went to the Dominant oriented classes. My professors knew I wasn’t-- they had to, I unfortunately couldn’t mark down ‘prefer not to say’ on my applications, but I talked to them when they realized I enrolled in Dominant-centric courses, and explained what I was doing. They let me do it-- probably because of who my family is-- but it helped. I walked, talked, breathed Dominance. I stayed away from romance and sex because then the secret would be exposed, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want the rumors to start up. I didn’t want to hear ‘There goes little Luci, the Submissive who thinks he can be Dominant’.” He spread his arms expansively. “I’ve lived as a Dominant for eighteen years, Sam. I have no idea how to be a Submissive, and I have absolutely no intention of finding out.” 

Sam listened patiently, nodding along. 

“I never wanted it,” he continued. “The feelings I get, the longing, none of it. I didn’t want to be Submissive. Why did God have to be so cruel?” 

“I don’t think God was intending to be cruel,” Sam said quietly. He squeezed Lucifer’s arm. “Each life we are born into, there is an inherent lesson to learn. Maybe this is your lesson.” 

“Oh, what, how to be a subservient little bitch?” Lucifer asked harshly. 

“How to accept help when it’s given,” Sam said gently. “How to let someone else take care of you. How to allow someone to see you not just at your highest point, but your lowest. How to let someone see you be vulnerable.” He rubbed his thumb along Lucifer’s forearm. “Submission is more than being down on your knees and obeying orders. It’s about trust, about letting someone else help you. It’s about being vulnerable, and yet, knowing you’re taken care of.” 

Lucifer stared at Sam. 

“They say that the Dominant has the most power in a Dominant/Submissive relationship,” Sam said. “I don’t believe that. The Submissive does.” 

Lucifer made a curious noise. The Submissive. . . has more power than the Dominant?

“Let me explain, and let’s use you as an example,” Sam said. “Say you’re having a rough day, for whatever reason. And you need to be taken care of. And Alastair walks up to you and commands you to get on your knees. What do you do?”

“Fight,” Lucifer said immediately. “I wouldn’t. Not unless he shot my kneecaps off.”

“You would not give your consent, and he’d have to force you every step of the way, no doubt resulting in harsh punishments for you,” Sam nodded. “Take the same situation, and I come up and command you to get on your knees. Are you going to fight me?”

“Yes,” Lucifer said. 

“Would it be as hard?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer shook his head. “I’d. . . I’d probably relent at some point,” he admitted. “I’d give consent.” 

“Which would lead to a more pleasant and less abusive relationship,” Sam said. “The Submissive has the power to say yes or no. And a Dominant-- that is, any Dominant worthy of their crop-- would have to either coax consent out of them, or wait until the Submissive is willing. Submission is a  _ gift,  _ Lucifer. I don’t know how many times I had wished to be a little more Submissive, just so I know someone could take care of me like a good Dominant takes care of a Submissive.” 

Lucifer blinked. He’d never thought about it like  _ that  _ before. “But. . .”

“But what?” Sam asked softly. 

Lucifer heaved a sigh. “I’m too feisty. I don’t submit easily. I don’t  _ like  _ submitting. I just. . . I feel Dominant. I  _ am  _ Dominant.” 

“You’re a rather bossy Submissive,” Sam teased lightly. “Can I let you in on a few secrets?” 

Lucifer nodded. “Sure.” 

“Alright, one, I’ve dated another Dominant. I know how the power plays go,” Sam said. 

Lucifer cocked his head to the side. “Before Jessica?” he asked. 

Sam nodded, chuckling. “You wouldn’t believe who it was.”

Lucifer shrugged. “I probably won’t know them,” he admitted. 

“Oh, you do,” Sam chuckled darkly. “Tyson Brady.” 

Lucifer stared at Sam. What?

Sam chuckled. “Yeah. Brady and I dated for a year, year and a half? Something like that.”

Lucifer cocked his head to the side. “Why did the two of you break up?” he asked. 

“Because Brady got arrested one too many times within a short span,” Sam admitted. “I wasn’t going to jeopardize my career by being associated with him -- not even like I could defend him in court, it would’ve been a conflict of interest. So I broke up with him. Told him he could come find me once he cleaned his act up. He. . . he changed over Thanksgiving break. Dropped out of pre-med, was sleeping around, was taking every drug he could get his hands on. And he developed a fascination with fire.”

“And then you met Jessica,” Lucifer surmised. 

“I met Jess after I broke up with Brady,” Sam confirmed. “And I fell in love with her. I was deeply in love with her. I was. . . I was going to ask her to marry me, when we graduated. She was getting her BSN and wanted to go for her Master’s. She was Dominant when she needed to be, but could turn Submissive at the drop of a hat, and she relished in it. I welcomed it. I’ve always preferred sex to be a little rougher, to have a bit of power play. I like the surrender, whether it’s my partner or I doing the surrendering.”

“Brady wanted you back?” Lucifer asked. 

Sam nodded. “As his lover and his lawyer. But I wasn’t going to leave Jess. I loved her. She was my everything.” 

Lucifer thought back to that case. He closed his eyes and thought of every note he had taken about the case. “An anonymous tip. Shortly after the fire that killed Jessica,” he said. “Someone saying Brady had done it. A young man. He sounded. . . furious but also. . . sad.” 

Sam nodded. “Payphone number 650-907-7467,” he said. “Four blocks from Stanford.”

Lucifer stared at Sam. “That was you.”

Sam nodded. “I knew it was him,” he said sadly. “I knew when he was caught, that he was going to hire the best lawyer he could. And that was you.” 

“You said you didn’t testify because you didn’t want people to know who you were,” Lucifer said, “Prospective employers, mainly.” 

“Well,” Sam chuckled lightly, “That was a good part of it. But. . . I also developed a crush on a member of his defense team. You might know him, actually. Tall, slender. Lithe fingers that look like they’ve played piano for decades. Lightly tanned skin. Strong jawline, a voice that demands even kings kneel before him.”

Lucifer stared at Sam in shock. 

“His crop was an extension of his hand, lightly tapping his palm during examinations and cross examinations,” Sam continued, leaning over the desk and towering over the older man as he stood up. “Blond hair that was too in place, should’ve been disheveled as if my fingers had run through it. And piercing blue eyes that commanded total obedience.” 

“You mean-” 

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was an undergrad,” Sam admitted. “I knew who you were, had seen your picture in the papers and give legal advice on the news, but watching you in action. . .”

“And you. . . didn’t care-” Lucifer was cut off yet again. 

“I couldn’t give two shits that you were a Dominant,” Sam finished. “Because I knew that if you did surrender, it would be sweet, wholly, utterly. That if you were reduced to your basest form, begging for release, that it would be more musical than if you had rolled over for it willingly. That it would’ve been a sign of devotion and would’ve brought sparks into a relationship.” Sam walked around the desk, keeping his eyes pinned to Lucifer’s. “That if I submitted, you would be tender, yet firm. That you would know what to do and how to do it, and any fears I had would’ve melted away before they had a chance to blossom into more.” He brushed a lock of blond hair back from Lucifer’s face. “And now, seeing that collar on your neck, knowing what it means for you to have someone that’s not family know about it. . .” he trailed off, starting to unbutton Lucifer’s shirt. 

Lucifer tried to prevent it, he really did, but his hands seemed to be glued to the armrests of his chair, watching Sam take a large breath at seeing the black collar caress his throat. 

“It doesn’t change a damn thing about how I feel,” Sam continued softly. “Any Dominant should be proud to have such an intelligent, wonderfully stubborn, yet wholly devoted Submissive kneel for them.”

“But--” Lucifer tried to speak, but Sam placed a finger over his lips. He looked up. 

“Just because you feel you don’t need it, doesn’t mean you don’t crave it,” Sam whispered. “I think, in some ways, not allowing yourself to indulge in being Submissive from time to time is a form of self-punishment. You’re punishing yourself for being something you feel is wrong. You’re punishing yourself for being  _ you. _ You’re punishing yourself for  _ needing  _ a little Dominance, a little tenderness.”

Lucifer was breathing quicker, gazing up at Sam. 

Maybe he was, but he didn’t like being called out on it. “So?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “So what if I am?” 

“You hate yourself, because of what you perceive Submission as,” Sam murmured kindly. “When you don’t realize that you have an entire country fooled into thinking you’re a Dominant. That you have one of the best track records of defense lawyers in America. That you have Submissives, Switches, and even Dominants  _ wishing  _ that they could kneel before you, that they could grace your bed. That you do good every single day. We all know that you act tough because you want to. But we see how you explain things, your reasonings for being a harsh disciplinarian, and how you comfort Submissives who may not have the spine you have. We see how you can calm a Dominant and have an honest conversation with him without coming to blows. We see you’re a  _ good man. _ And we would see that even if you were just a highly Dominant Submissive.” 

He slipped his finger from Lucifer’s lips down his neck, tracing along the smooth black leather. “Your presentation doesn’t matter. What matters is the type of person  _ you  _ are, and the kind you strive to be. At the end of the day, we’re all human, hopefully trying to make a difference in the world. Why should it matter whether or not you’re wielding a crop or wearing a collar?”

Lucifer had no words for Sam. None at all. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Closing his eyes, he began breathing deeply and to categorize the new information. 

_ Sam- dated Brady, broke up because of reckless behavior. Brady wanted him back, but Sam had already moved on with Jessica. Arson most likely a form of revenge.  _

_ Sam gave the anonymous tip to the police that it was a Brady-esque fire.  _

_ Sam didn’t testify because. . . he had a crush on me. Back when he thought I was Dominant.  _

_ I can be Submissive while being Dominant. Oxymoron. Contradicting things. Contradiction of information taught prior.  _

“Lucifer?” Sam’s voice swam into his head. “Lucifer, I know it’s a lot to process, but you’ve been like this for ten minutes.” 

Lucifer’s eyes shot open and he looked up at Sam. 

Sam smiled kindly down at him, cupping his cheek. “Mind trading places? You’re looking a little wild around the eyes, and I know what I did last night helped you.”

Lucifer hesitated before shaking his head. He didn’t want to. He didn’t have to. 

Sam sat down on the desk. “I know this is difficult for you,” he murmured. “But I can see the panic in your eyes. I can see how out of control you feel. Let me help you regain that.”

“I’m giving up control when I’m on my knees,” Lucifer spat. “Kneeling means submission.” 

“That doesn’t mean you’re not in control,” Sam reminded him gently. “Your hands are shaking, your breathing is faster, your face is flushed. I know you feel like you don’t need this, that you don’t  _ want _ this. I know, deep down, you are punishing yourself for having a basic need. Let me help you.” 

Lucifer took a deep breath, trying to calm down his racing heart and mind, but it didn’t work, like it usually did. He could feel his chest hurting. 

“Lucifer, listen to me,” Sam murmured, “You’re about to hyperventilate, or have a panic attack. It’s okay. You need this. You want this, even if you’re telling yourself you don’t. Can you listen to me and do what I say?” 

Lucifer shook his head. “I. . . I. . . it hurts,” he gasped. 

Sam observed their situation, and tugged Lucifer closer, the chair rolling. “Can you rest your head on my lap? You don’t have to kneel,” he murmured. 

_ He doesn’t have to kneel.  _ And he knew from experience, if he laid his head down, the room would stop spinning. 

Nodding, he leaned forward and rested his head on Sam’s lap. Sam’s fingers returned to his hair and began stroking gently, soothing. 

“There we go, that’s good,” Sam praised softly. “That’s good, Lucifer, thank you for letting me know it hurts. Are you feeling a little better?” 

Lucifer gave a nod. “Room’s not spinning,” he mumbled. 

“Well, that’s good,” Sam chuckled softly. “Close your eyes, and just feel, okay?”

Lucifer nodded, closing his eyes. He concentrated on the feeling of his hair being stroked, Sam’s strong thigh underneath his head, the quiet air around them. He felt his breathing slow and his heart return to a normal resting rate. 

It was intimate, and yet it wasn’t. The roles were defined, but the lines were blurred. Sam was in control, and yet he wasn’t. 

Lucifer was a man who lived his life in absolutes. Black and white. Good and bad. Dominant and Submissive. Hot and cold. There was no in between with him. He didn’t understand that there were shades of grey, that there was ambiguity of good and bad, that a Dominant can feel Submissive, that lukewarm and room temperature existed. For him, the world was binary. Only now was he beginning to see the other numbers, the other shades of color, the fact that life  _ isn’t  _ absolute. 

“Sam?” he asked quietly. 

“Yes, Lucifer?” the younger man asked softly.

He hesitated. “I’m scared,” he admitted. 

“Of what?” Sam coaxed. 

“This,” he admitted. “I. . . I don’t know what to do.” 

Sam hummed softly. “Just rest for now,” he murmured. “We’ll go through the case again when you’re ready and feel up to it.” 

Lucifer nodded. “What about. . . after this?” 

“That’s up to you, Lucifer,” Sam said quietly. “I may be a Dominant taking care of you, but it’s up to you if you want to continue. Either way, you’re still my superior. I don’t want you to treat me differently just because I’ve seen this side of you.” 

“So. . . we’ll pretend that you don’t know I’m a Submissive?” Lucifer asked softly. 

“Exactly,” Sam smiled. “I’m just another one of your grunt lawyers, doing my job and getting whipped by my superior.”

Lucifer smiled and nuzzled into Sam’s thigh. “And if. . . if I think I need this?” 

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Sam promised. “I want you to just rest, now, okay? Don’t think. Just feel.” 

Lucifer nodded, closing his eyes again.

_ I could, potentially, get used to this. _


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer intercepts mail from Crowley, and the revelation helps things fall into place.

Lucifer hummed a greeting as Meg handed him his mail. He smiled warmly at her and chuckled at the dark purple bruise peaking out of her burgundy dress. “Did Castiel get a bit amorous?” he teased. 

She laughed softly. “Just a bit. I don’t mind.” She gave a little flush. “I caught the unicorn, and it’s thanks to you.” 

Lucifer smiled and raised his brow as he noticed one of the letters in his hands was addressed to Crowley. Smoothing the envelope down, he flipped it over on top of the rest of his mail. “I did nothing. I merely stole his trench coat.” 

Meg laughed. “It’s good to see you back to normal again, boss.” 

Gabriel, Raphael, and Castiel had all accepted Lucifer’s sincerest apologies, and were outraged about the memo that they all had read (it seemed only Michael remained incapable of reading his emails) and figured that was the issue. Gabriel wanted to go rain glitter and holy judgement onto Crowley the moment he heard who was behind it, but Castiel thankfully was strong enough to hold back a scampering older brother. Raphael was able to make Lucifer smile by showing him and their other brothers pictures of the new Alighieri sitting with Julian. The older Submissive’s face showed absolute adoration for the child on his lap, and Raphael showed a few of them holding Daniel, including a short video of Julian and Daniel playing catch. “It feels good to be back to normal,” Lucifer assured her. “Now get back to work, and don’t make googly eyes at Castiel too long.” 

She laughed and left. 

Lucifer flipped through his mail rapidly again, finding the envelope addressed to Crowley. There was no return address, or other way of identifying who it was from. 

Lucifer opened his desk drawer and withdrew the silver dagger that he used as a letter opener. He smoothly slid it in between the flaps and tore the envelope open along the glue lines neatly. 

Tentatively, he withdrew the letter from within and scanned it. 

 

**Mr. Crowley**

**I am pleased to hear about the success of your little experiment. It’s a shame that the intended effect didn’t last longer, but I have no doubt that we will see more promising results soon. When that happens, should our suspicions be confirmed, contact me. We will discuss payment then.**

**Until then-**

**A.P.**

 

Lucifer blinked, then reread the letter. Alastair and Crowley, working together? 

It would make sense. Crowley got close to finding out when he worked underneath Lucifer a couple of years ago, and had resented him ever since. Balthazar did admit he was a better publications lawyer than defense lawyer, which Lucifer was glad to hear. 

He thought back to the pool party, feeling a wave of nausea crest over him as he remembered the questions Alastair had asked him. The plastic surgeon had probably been sounding him out.

“I feel sick now,” he mumbled. 

Cracking his neck, he straightened in his seat and slid the letter and envelope in his desk before going through the rest of his mail. 

He didn’t want to freak Michael, his other siblings, or Sam out with this information just yet. 

In fact, this was something he wanted to do himself.

He was going to bring Alastair Picasso down, and if he was exposed in the process? Well. . . he wasn’t sure if he cared anymore.

Lucifer’s come to burn Alastair’s kingdom down.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer lashes out, then punishes himself in the worst way. Sam, luckily, is there to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This describes a scene of self harm. Skip if you're uncomfortable

It was another tense week for the lawyers and legal aides under Lucifer’s direction. It was quite obvious that something was bugging him, but what it was, no one was privy to. 

He worked longer hours, often arriving before Meg and leaving well after closing. He snapped and barked and overcompensated, just as intense as the prior week. 

Meg simply was ignoring Lucifer’s cutting words and flippant jibes this time around, leading Lucifer to believe that Castiel told Meg a little bit about him. It would make sense, since Lucifer knew it wouldn’t be too long before they officially became a couple, engaged and the whole nine yards. He’d just gone shopping with Castiel that weekend looking for the perfect ring for Meg. 

Lucifer was more paranoid now, too. He keylogged and bugged Crowley’s computer every day, noticing constant email communication between him and Alastair about him as well as other things. Lucifer had nearly vomited onto his favorite legal pad at a video Alastair had sent Crowley, where the plastic surgeon put his skills in the OR to practice on his wife. He wasn’t sure he could get Tessa’s screaming out of his ears. 

No one else knew that Alastair and Crowley were working together. He was still the only one with that knowledge, and he intended to BE the only one with that knowledge. 

“LUCIFER!” 

Lucifer looked up from his report on the Roman case, which had Roman plead down to a lesser charge. As a result, the death penalty went off the table, and he didn’t have to serve his twenty years without parole in a maximum security, perpetually locked down facility. He bit his tongue to hold back the laughter. 

“I thought I told you to get Gabriel’s glitter cannons out of my closet?” Michael asked plaintively. 

“I think you missed the Elvis reunion tour,” Lucifer snickered. 

Gold glitter covered one of Michael’s favorite black suits. The shirt was spared, but the black tie he wore was colored in the same glitter as the suit. 

“C’mon, Mikey, sing us a song,” he teased. “I know you dig Elvis. Give a good one!” 

“I am going to shove you into a dumpster,” Michael grumbled. “And kill Gabriel.” 

“Too bad either way I couldn’t be your lawyer,” Lucifer smirked. “Conflict of interest and all. Please tell me it’s in your hair.” 

“I plead the Fifth. Is that how it goes?” Michael asked sarcastically. 

“I hereby shall break the Fourth Amendment, which forbids search and seizure without a warrant or probable cause,” Lucifer laughed, vaulting over his desk to try and tackle Michael. “Oh my  _ God  _ it IS in your hair!” he laughed as he managed to tug his brother’s head down, seeing gold glitter dust his hair like a group of fairies had danced in it. “And he even got your  _ shoes! _ ”

“IT’S ON MY DICK!” Michael shouted. 

Lucifer fell over into one of his chairs for clients, wheezing with laughter, as Michael had shouted those four words loud enough to attract attention; p eople were attempting to peek into Lucifer’s office through the single, blinded window and the closed glass doo r. Even Meg was looking at them, bewildered, before deciding that she didn’t want to know and turning to talk to Castiel, who had just appeared. 

“Could you embarrass yourself further, Mikey?” Lucifer laughed softly, looking up at his older brother. “I haven’t seen you act this foolish since you were twenty and tried to outdrink Dad.” 

“That’s rich, coming from an overcompensating idiot,” Michael snarked, shaking his arm in an attempt to get the glitter off. “Fuck. He got the shit that actually sticks and doesn’t budge.” 

“What are you talking about?” Lucifer asked. “I’m back to me. To my usual self.” 

“Says the man who stupidly challenged half the firm to an arm wrestling competition two days ago,” Michael said dryly. 

“Oh that? That was just a little friendly fun, Mikey!” Lucifer scoffed, getting up and off the chair. “Can’t a man do a little friendly competition?” 

“Lucifer, it started off because Kevin nearly threw you into the fridge,” Michael sighed. “And you wanted to prove you were stronger than him. Which then led to you challenging half the firm.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “So?” he challenged. 

“Lucifer, something is up, and you’re not saying what it is,” Michael said. “I’m worried about you.”

“Nothing to worry about, Mikey,” Lucifer said. “Why are you worrying, anyways? I’m cool, man. I’ve got everything nice and neat and tidy, under control, even under all this. . .” he waggled his eyebrows, “pressure.” 

Michael growled. “Lucifer. This isn’t a funny matter. Why are you attempting to emulate Gabriel? It’s not a good look on you.” 

“Are you feeling a little tense, Mikey?” Lucifer asked, walking over to his older brother. He wasn’t going to give into his brother’s bullying, which meant being a little shit of a brother. “Do you need a man with blond hair and a tan, good for relieving some. . . tension?” 

Michael shoved Lucifer away. “Goddammit, Lucifer, I’m trying to be serious here. You’re hiding something.” 

“That’s my secret, bro!” Lucifer spread his arms expansively. “ _ I am hiding something.  _ It’s black and leather and it goes on my neck. Sound familiar? No? Yeah, that’s right, ‘cause you got what you wanted, whereas I actually have to fight for it. I have to act like it and if that means there’s a little overcompensation, so what? There’s all sorts of overcompensating Dominants around these parts.” He crossed his arms protectively over his chest. “Don’t try to understand or deride me for doing something that actually doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does to you, unless you know what I go through. Which you only know the outside, looking in. You’re not me, Michael. You don’t know the struggle. You  _ can’t  _ know. And if you’re going to belittle me for doing this, then get the fuck out of my office.”

“Lucifer, goddammit, I’m trying to  _ help  _ you!” Michael came around and got into Lucifer’s face. How he managed to act imposing while covered in bright gold glitter, he was still unsure of. “I’m not stupid. I helped raise you, in a sense. I’ve been there for every trial and tribulation you’ve ever gone through. I know you, almost better than you know yourself. Something is  _ seriously _ bothering you, and you’re not letting anyone in, again.” 

“I don’t  _ need  _ help,” Lucifer hissed, “Not with this.” 

“Sure about that, baby bro?” Michael asked, crossing his own arms, “or are you just going to overcompensate and get yourself hurt?” 

“I’m not a  _ baby, _ ” Lucifer sneered. “Or a child. Jesus. Maybe you should go find someone to fuck. I’d say cuddle, but you can’t stand that sort of shit, can you?” His tone turned bitter. “I know you resent the times you have to dominate me and it results in cuddling and you doing things for me that cute couples do for a date night, or just because that’s what cute little couples in love do for whatever reason.” 

Michael frowned, his eyebrows drawing towards his nose. “Lucifer, I don’t-” 

“Don’t. Lie. To me.” Lucifer hissed. “I know you do. You don’t say it, but I can tell what you’re thinking. You wish I could just accept the fact that I’m a little bitch who needs a firm hand and find someone who can give me the things that your cold, black heart can’t.” 

Michael sighed softly. “You’re wrong, and you know it,” he said gently, but firmly. He reached out for Lucifer’s shoulder. 

“ _ Don’t. _ ” Lucifer’s voice was firm. “You’re lying. To me, and to yourself.” He turned away from Michael. “Get out.” 

“Lucifer-” Michael went to touch Lucifer’s shoulder again, but the younger brother turned and socked Michael in the jaw. 

“OUT!” he roared. He ignored the flash of hurt and pain on Michael’s face. “Leave me alone, like you want to. I’ll be fine without big brother needing to hold my hand.” 

Michael stood there for a moment, watching as Lucifer turned back away from him. He held his jaw in his hand, contemplating, before quietly leaving and making his way to Sam Winchester’s cubicle. 

Lucifer felt his chest grow tight, his head beginning to get fuzzy. He grasped his desk, waiting for the need to have someone take care of him after that expenditure of energy to die down, to wilt away. 

It wasn’t going down, and he froze, nibbling on the edge of his thumb as his hazed mind raced, white knuckling his desk. 

He couldn’t ask for help, not after he just assaulted Michael, and he didn’t want Sam to get involved. Not to mention, asking for help was asking to be weak, and Lucifer refused to have that label attached to him. 

He worked quickly after coming up with his solution. Making sure Meg was occupied and no one else was peeping in, he locked his office door before making his way back to his desk. He lifted the phone off the receiver, hearing the tone echo through. Placing it on his desk, he then made his way to the bathroom, closing the door. Stripping off his tie, he undid his shirt completely, observing the flushed skin beneath. 

_ Noise, he needed noise. _ He turned the water in the sink on full blast. The water was a soothing backdrop for what he needed to do. 

He threw off his shirt, leaving him in his undershirt, and unclipped the crop from his belt. 

_ No, it wasn’t enough. _ He needed more. He felt the dominance coursing in his veins, but he needed both.  _ Submission and Dominance, in harmony _ . 

_ The collar.  _

He reached behind him, unbuckling his collar before pulling it tightly against his throat, a soft and pained gasp leaving him. 

_ Good.  _ It was tight, tighter than any sane person would’ve put it but as long as Lucifer could breathe, he was fine. 

He lifted the crop and bowed his head.

 

“Boss didn’t leave any special instructions,” Meg admitted, picking up her phone and dialing Lucifer’s extension. “That’s funny, it sounds like he’s on a call, but unless he’s on hold I should be able to hear talking. . . All I’m hearing is water.” 

Sam groaned. “Can you peek in there for me, please? Michael sounded a bit panicked when he came to talk to me,” he asked politely. 

“Sure can, kiddo,” Meg said, turning around in her chair and rolling to the door. “Well, his phone’s off the hook, and the bathroom door’s closed. So maybe he forgot to hit mute while he went to the can.” 

It was too long. Sam rushed around Meg’s desk and walked over to the door, banging on the glass. “Lucifer? Lucifer, open this door!” he commanded. He could hear the water running all the way out here, and his lungs felt tight in his chest. “Lucifer, c’mon!” he called. He brought his fist down onto the wooden frame, splintering it unintentionally. 

“Woo, easy there, you overgrown moose,” Meg said, tapping his arm and handing him the key. “Go check on him. I’ll hold off anyone who wants to speak to him.” 

Sam nodded, unlocking the office door. Closing it behind him, he rushed to the bathroom. “Lucifer?” he said as he leaned up against the bathroom door, ear pressed to it.  “Lucifer, open up, please. Michael’s worried and so am I.” 

No answer, except running water and. . .was that a crop?!

Sam swore and slammed his body against the bathroom door before jiggling the handle. Mercifully, it was unlocked and Sam swung it open, his heart dropping. 

“Lucifer, no, no little one,” he murmured. He kneeled next to Lucifer, just as another smack across his back echoed in the small room. 

“Enough of that,” Sam said firmly, yanking the crop out of Lucifer’s hand and noticing how tight the collar was. His heart melted, and he set the crop down. “Oh, angel,” he whispered, the nickname coming out unbidden, as he undid the collar and pressed it into Lucifer’s hands. Lucifer’s bright blue eyes met his, wide in confusion and pain, and he gave an encouraging smile to the other man. “Come here, let me hold you,” he coaxed. 

“S-s-s-sam?” Lucifer stuttered, his voice disbelieving. 

“I’m here,” Sam murmured, pulling Lucifer onto his lap and tucking his head down into the crook of his neck. “I’m right here, Lucifer, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Lucifer clung to Sam tightly, whimpering in pain and confusion. 

Sam shushed him softly, setting up a rocking motion for the tired man in his arms. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he whispered. “We’re going to figure this out, you’ll see.” 

Lucifer whimpered and Sam instinctively turned his head to press a gentle kiss to the soft blond hair. “Shh, angel,” he soothed. “You’re okay.”

Lucifer coughed into Sam’s shoulder, slumping against him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry for what?” Sam asked gently. 

“For. . . for appearing weak,” he rasped. He’d really had his collar on tight. “For. . . for hiding things. For punching my brother when he. . . “ he coughed again. “He was trying to help.” 

“Let’s start with you punching Michael,” Sam murmured. “Why did you punch Michael?”

“‘Cause he didn’t leave me alone when I asked,” Lucifer admitted. 

“And why didn’t he?” Sam asked. “Did you tell Michael things you didn’t mean?” 

Lucifer nodded, hot tears once again coming to his eyes. 

“Was it because Michael was asking about your behavior lately?” Sam pushed. 

Lucifer nodded again. 

“Angel, Michael was doing that because he was worried. We thought something bad had happened and you weren’t letting anyone in. We didn’t want you to get hurt or hurt yourself.” Sam hugged Lucifer closer. “Can you tell me why you were hiding things from those of us who want to help?” 

“Wanted to do it by myself,” Lucifer mumbled. “Didn’t want to seem weak.” 

Sam chuckled. “Are you sure you didn’t share a womb with my brother?” he teased. “You sound just like him before Benny spanked it out of him. Asking for help is  _ not  _ looking weak. It’s intelligent. It’s like if Roman hadn’t come to you for legal help. Is he weak for asking you to get him at the very least a plea down?” 

Lucifer shook his head. 

“Then why is this any different?” Sam asked, wiping the sweat off of Lucifer’s brow. “Is it because of your presentation?” 

Lucifer hesitated, then nodded. 

“What did I tell you last week, hmmm? You’re punishing yourself, aren’t you? For needing this.” He gently rubbed Lucifer’s back, shushing him as he hissed. “You worried me, and you worried Michael. Very much. I nearly broke down your door getting in here.” 

Lucifer winced. “R-r-really?” he stammered. 

“Really,” Sam affirmed.

Someone knocked on the door to the bathroom, and Lucifer whimpered, ducking his head into Sam’s shoulder. 

“Who is it?” Sam asked softly. 

“Michael,” the oldest Alighieri said. “Mind if I come in?” 

“It’s a bit cramped, but sure,” Sam said. “It’s just Michael, angel.” 

Michael opened the door and squatted down to Lucifer’s and Sam’s level. There was bruising along the edge of Michael’s jaw and a dark blue coffee mug in his hand. 

“It’s tea,” he told Sam. “He drinks this when he’s upset, it helps calm him down.” 

Sam nodded, shifting Lucifer on his lap. “Little one, Michael’s got tea for you. Do you want some?” 

Lucifer nodded, keeping his face as buried in Sam’s shoulder as possible. 

“Well, I don’t think you can drink tea with your ear,” Sam teased lightly. “Come on, you can say hi to Michael. He’s not going to bite.” 

Lucifer slowly turned his head to regard his older brother. “Hi,” he whispered. 

“Hey there,” Michael said, getting one knee down on the ground. “How’re your hands, are they steady?” 

Lucifer nodded, holding them out and showing that they weren’t shaking. 

Michael passed the tea to Lucifer, who took a few sips of it, still leaning into Sam.

“You scared me, Lucifer,” Michael whispered. “You’ve never acted out like that before, or said those things.” 

Lucifer shifted, curling into Sam more. “‘M sorry,” he whispered, drinking the tea again. 

“I know something’s up. Can you tell me and Sam?” Michael asked. 

Lucifer frowned. 

“Little one,” Sam murmured. “Michael and I are trying to help you. We can’t if we don’t know what’s going on.” 

Lucifer took a deep breath. He might as well tell them. “Crowley’s not working alone,” he whispered. 

Michael nodded. “Okay. Who’s he working with? Or for?” he asked gently. 

“Alastair.” He cuddled into Sam more, taking another sip of his tea. 

Michael and Sam shared a look. “Alright, we’ll discuss this more later,” Michael said. “I’m going to clear the firm out, Sam, mind taking him home?” 

Sam shook his head. “Not at all,” the younger Dominant said. 

“I don’t want to go home,” Lucifer mumbled.

“Vervain is a sleep aid, Lucifer,” Michael reminded his younger brother. “You’ll fall asleep within minutes at your desk.” 

Lucifer stuck his tongue out at Michael, who chuckled. “I know. Brat.” 

Lucifer bit his lip. “Micha?” 

Michael looked at his younger brother as he turned off the water. “Yes, Luci?” he asked. 

“‘M sorry that I punched you and said mean things,” Lucifer mumbled. “Didn’t mean them.” 

Michael kissed the top of Lucifer’s head. “All is forgiven. Let’s get you cleaned up and home, under the covers.” 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam spends the night at Lucifer's, and discoveries are made.

The trio arrived at Lucifer’s apartment within short order, Michael and Lucifer in Lucifer’s car and Sam in his own. 

Lucifer fumbled with his keys until he found the apartment key and he opened the door. “Make yourselves at home,” he said, toeing off his shoes and heading into the kitchen. 

Sam grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close. “With you still looking like you’re at work?” he tsked. “Let’s at least get your top half comfortable.” 

Lucifer frowned. “I  _ like  _ wearing my suit around,” he protested, trying to get Sam’s fingers off of his tie.

“And I shudder to think of your monthly dry cleaning bill,” Sam murmured, not even all that distracted by Lucifer’s quest. “Home is where you can be yourself, right?” 

“Right,” Lucifer said. 

“And where you can be open about what you want, with who you’re with,” Sam finished. “Which means, no hiding.” He pulled away the tie and let it drop to the floor. “You can let your guard down, Lucifer. It’s just me and Michael here with you.”

“But--” he was cut off with a finger to his lips, Sam undoing his shirt with one hand. 

“No buts,” Sam said, removing the finger to finish unbuttoning his shirt. “Relax, angel. It’s just us.” 

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat as Sam removed his shirt, leaving him in his tank top. He stretched and hissed. Ahh, yes, the welts he left on himself. 

“Turn around,” Sam said softly. 

Lucifer did as he was told. 

“Lift up your tank.”

He did so, hissing as the hem travelled over the welts. 

Soft fingers touched them and he whimpered quietly. They  _ hurt. _

“Do you have any arnica cream, little one?” Sam asked soothingly. 

Lucifer shook his head. “No,” he admitted. 

Sam slid the tank top back down, making sure it wasn’t hitting the welts as he did so. “Michael? Could you run out to the store for some arnica cream? There’s a few nasty welts on Lucifer’s back,” he asked the older Dominant, who was walking in with glasses of water for the three of them. 

Michael nodded, setting the glasses down. “Sure.” 

“Thank you,” Sam said appreciatively. 

Lucifer took a sip of his water and gave a slight frown. It needed more gin. It was lacking gin. Home meant gin and tonics. This wasn’t a gin and tonic, it was just  _ water. _

He cast a glance at Sam and Michael, who were quietly discussing dinner plans and anything else they may need. They weren’t paying attention to him. 

Silently, he slipped away to his kitchen. He took out a glass identical to the one his water was in and headed to the fridge for the tonic water. Finding it, he ducked his head into a cupboard and found his gin. Grabbing it, he turned and was met with Sam, who had his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. 

“Hi,” he said. “Can I help you?”

Sam smirked. It was a good look on him. “Lucifer, is there any reason why I saw you sneak away to make yourself a gin and tonic?” he asked softly. 

“I didn’t really ‘sneak’,” Lucifer replied, “I just simply came into  _ my  _ kitchen to make myself a gin and tonic.” He tried to step around Sam, but Sam wasn’t budging. Lucifer realized then exactly how  _ broad  _ Sam was. “Would you like one?” 

“No, thank you,” Sam said, slipping the gin out of Lucifer’s hand easily. “I’m a whiskey on the rocks man.” 

Lucifer snatched his bottle of gin back and clutched it to him possessively. “It’s  _ my  _ house, I’ll drink if I want to,” he said. “I have one most days after work. Days like today usually mean three of them.” 

“Well,” Sam said, slipping the tonic water out of Lucifer’s hand and holding it high above his head, “Not today. Today you’re only going to drink water, tea, and if you’re a good boy, I might let you drink some soda. But alcohol? No.” He set the tonic water behind him and held his hand out for the gin. “Give me the gin.” 

“No,” Lucifer snarled, clutching it to him as if it was his firstborn, and Sam was a witch. “Who do you think you are, saying whether or not I can have alcohol? I am of legal age, and I can still probably drink you under the table, even though you pretty much  _ just  _ graduated law school. I am a grown man who makes his own fucking decisions. I have since I was a kid, and I’ll still make them now.”

“So,” Sam drawled slowly, stepping more into Lucifer’s space. Lucifer backed up, but Sam kept coming. “It doesn’t matter that just an hour ago I had to come in and stop you from beating yourself with a crop, with your collar on so tight you couldn’t breathe and were close to passing out?” 

Lucifer felt his back hit the wall, and he stared up defiantly at Sam. “Why does that matter?” he snapped. 

“Because,” Sam said calmly, stepping closer to Lucifer. They were almost touching. Lucifer’s back screamed in protest at having so much pressure on the welts, “You’re not in a good mindframe. You  _ hurt yourself  _ today, Lucifer, and by coming home and drinking, you’re not doing yourself any favors.” 

Lucifer rubbed his neck with his free hand absently. He ached for his collar to be on his neck, not in his pocket. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I just want a drink.” He felt a burst of pride flare up in his heart.  _ An hour without. I’ve gone an hour without and just now was rubbing my neck. How far can I go? _

Sam gently linked his hand with Lucifer’s and brought it away, tilting Lucifer’s chin up to observe the bruising beneath. It was starting to turn purple and magenta, and Sam sighed softly. 

“You haven’t seen what you did to yourself, have you?” he asked softly. 

Lucifer shook his head. He had gotten redressed at the firm without looking in the mirror, at least until his shirt was buttoned up over his neck. 

“Which way to your bathroom?” Sam requested, taking Lucifer’s bicep in his hand. 

“Just down the hall, to the right,” Lucifer said quietly. 

Sam lead him down the tiny hall and into the bathroom. “Can you set the gin down?” he asked quietly. “I promise I won’t take it.” 

Lucifer nodded, using the little light from the hallway to set the gin on the back of the toilet.

Sam moved behind him, resting large hands on the top of Lucifer’s hips. “Turn on the light.”

Lucifer turned on the light and looked in the mirror. He gasped, leaning back into Sam.

His eyes were a little wild and red rimmed from his tears, his face a little pale. His lips were bitten red from where he had gnawed on them in an effort to keep quiet. He tilted his chin up and whimpered at the amount of bruising along where the collar would normally rest. He could see the fading welts from when he and Sam had their duel in his office and a new one, right on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, angry and pinkish white. 

“Oh,” he whispered softly.

Sam merely pressed a kiss to Lucifer’s temple. “Yeah,” he said, looking at them in the mirror, “Oh.  _ This  _ is why I’m saying you shouldn’t drink. Because this is what you look like right now. Because right now you’re feeling scared and vulnerable, and you feel the gin and tonic, a comforting thing to you, will make you feel less so. But it won’t.” One of Sam’s hands moved from Lucifer’s hip to his chest, gently pressing Lucifer back and into him, fingers splayed open. “It’ll make you that much more vulnerable, it’ll lower your inhibitions, and you’ll end up doing something you regret.”

“It’ll make me feel in control,” Lucifer tried to defend himself. 

“But you won’t be,” Sam murmured, “It’s an illusion.”

“Then what will?” Lucifer asked.  _ Have to be in control. Must be in control.  _

“Do you feel out of control?” Sam asked softly. 

Lucifer nodded. 

“Do you think I’m in control?” Sam’s hand on his chest began rubbing lightly. 

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah,” he said, mouth dry. 

“Does that scare you?”

Another nod. 

“Why?” 

“‘Cause it’s not me in control of me.” 

“You’re not a puppet, Lucifer. You  _ are  _ in control of you. It’s just a different kind of control. You control whether or not you’ll behave. You control whether or not an instruction is worth listening  to .”

Lucifer turned and looked up at Sam, ignoring the flash of pain he felt from Sam’s warm hand hitting his back. “That means if I want to drink unwisely, I can, if I feel like it.” 

Sam raised his eyebrow. “I suppose that does.”

Lucifer smirked. “Which means, I get to drink.” 

Sam frowned. “I don’t like it. You’re in a compromised mental state.” 

Lucifer shrugged. “It’s no different than heading into a business law final completely piss drunk,” he said. 

“Compromise,” Sam said, “You have one drink, and I control how much gin goes into it.”

Lucifer shook his head. “One, and I get to put in as much gin as I want.”

Sam sighed. “It’s going to be mostly gin.” 

“So you think,” Lucifer challenged. He slipped out of Sam’s hold and grabbed the bottle of gin. “We’ve got a deal, yeah?”

Sam smiled. “Yes.” 

“Good,” Lucifer said, walking out and back into his kitchen, snatching the tonic water up again. Setting the bottles down, he replaced the empty tall glass with a shorter, highball glass. Carrying the glass over, he pushed for some ice cubes from his fridge as Sam padded back in to watch. 

Lucifer carefully measured his gin as he poured, making sure it never went above two-thirds of the glass before pouring the tonic water in. Swirling it around, he met Sam’s gaze and took a sip. 

Sam inclined his head. “I stand corrected.” 

“You shouldn’t be able to taste the alcohol in a good drink,” Lucifer argued, taking another sip. “Not to mention that this helps me relax.” 

Sam smiled. “TV?” 

“Sure,” Lucifer said, walking out to his couch and flopping himself down onto it. Grabbing the remote, he flipped the TV on and cackled happily. “I forgot tonight was reruns of Untold Stories of the ER,” he said happily. 

Sam raised a brow as he walked into the living room again, pushing Lucifer’s shoulder lightly. “Move. There’s only one other seat and I don’t think Michael wants to cuddle you.” 

“Nah,” Lucifer agreed, scooting a centimeter. “There. I moved.” 

“I will sit on you,” Sam said. 

“So? What are you, six?” Lucifer scoffed. “Sit down and shut up, this is one of my favorite episodes.”

“Why?” Sam asked, sitting down on Lucifer’s stomach. The older man groaned.

“Because,” he chuckled through a labored breath, “these three guys went catfishing, and they found a snapping turtle.” 

Sam looked at Lucifer with horrified eyes. 

“Get off the food baby maker,” Lucifer said, shoving at Sam’s shoulder. “Onto my legs, if you must sit on me. I’m not furniture.”

“You didn’t move!” Sam insisted, but doing as Lucifer requested. 

“I did too, now shut up and watch the show,” Lucifer said, taking a sip of gin and tonic. 

They were in the midst of paralyzing the turtle when Michael came back. Observing Lucifer with his glass of alcohol, and Sam sitting on his legs, the oldest of the three muttered, “I don’t want to know,” before waving a couple of bags. “Alright, I’ve got arnica cream, lotion, and Chinese,” he said. 

Lucifer sat up and pushed Sam off his legs and onto the floor, running towards his brother and hugging him tightly. “CHINESE!”

Michael grunted, nodding. “Yes.” 

“Did you get me mine?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yes, I got you one solitary crab rangoon,” Michael teased. “Or did you mean two orders of shrimp lo mein, a bowl of shrimp in lobster sauce, and ten crab rangoons?”

Lucifer found a bag that smelled like seafood and he went to grab it before Michael smacked his fingers. “Wait your turn, you little racoon,” he admonished. He handed the bag with the arnica and lotion to Sam before digging into the two bags of Chinese. “Alright, I got the General Tso’s, Sam, you got beef and broccoli, right?” 

“Yeah,” Sam said, taking his take out container. “Thanks.” 

“Sure thing. I got egg rolls, and the rest is Lucifer’s because he eats a lot of food.” Michael handed the bag to Lucifer. 

Lucifer stuck his tongue out and snatched his food. “Thanks, Mikey,” he said. He found the plastic fork and opened the takeout container. “Move. You’re in the way of the TV.”

“What are we watching?” Michael asked, going to sit in the armchair. 

“Untold Stories of the ER, now shut up, they’re going to intubate the turtle,” Lucifer said around a mouthful of noodles. 

Michael stared at Sam, who shrugged. 

“It’s actually interesting, how stupid people are,” Sam admitted, shrugging. “I kind of like it.” 

“Luci, can we please change the channel?” Michael asked plaintively. 

“My house, my rules,” Lucifer said. 

“Lucifer, this isn’t a house, it’s an apartment,” Michael sighed.  

“It’s still mine, and I want to watch Untold Stories of the ER,” Lucifer insisted. “Don’t like it, don’t watch it. Just stare at your spicy ass food that’s going to have you on the toilet four hours later.”

Sam snorted. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Get up off the floor,” he grumbled. 

Lucifer looked over at Sam, who was now sprawled on the couch. “The couch is full.” 

“So?” Michael asked in an uncaring voice. “Go sit on the couch.” 

“I’m the master of my castle, if I want to eat my lo mein on the floor then I will.” He reached for his  glass of gin and tonic and ended up pulling Michael’s glass of water down on top of his head.

Sam chuckled while Michael smirked. “That is why.”

Sighing, Lucifer shook his head free of water and got up with his bag of food. Walking over to the couch, he climbed right onto Sam’s lap and began eating again.

“Excuse you,” Sam teased, poking Lucifer in the side. “Who said you could sit here?” 

“My house, my rules, you’re in my place,” Lucifer said, sighing happily at the taste of lo mein. 

“You can sit on my lap if after you’re done eating you allow me to put arnica cream on your back,” Sam bargained. 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Okay.” 

The episode ended just as Lucifer finished shoveling down his box of lo mein. Stretching, he laughed as the next episode came on. 

“Done eating?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer nodded. “For now.” 

“Then strip,” Sam said, reaching down into the bag for the arnica.

“Jesus, Sam, take a man out to dinner before asking to see the goods,” Lucifer joked as he slowly peeled his tank top off, hissing. 

Sam chuckled before raising a brow and giving Michael a look. Michael shrugged, hiding a smile, as he kept his eyes on his food and not on the TV screen. Shaking his head, Sam opened the arnica cream and sat up. 

Lucifer hissed and batted at Sam’s arm as the cold cream touched the welts on his back. 

“Hey, hey, be still,” Sam soothed. “It’s going to hurt. Just relax.” 

“I’ll show you relaxation,” Lucifer mumbled. 

Sam chuckled softly and began rubbing the cream on in soothing circles. 

It actually felt. . . nice, and soon, Lucifer relaxed into it. 

Smiling, Sam patted his shoulder. “Better?” he asked. 

“Loads, thanks,” Lucifer said, smiling. “Can I. . .” he bit his lip. “Can I cuddle with you?” he asked.

Sam beamed and nodded. “Sure,” he said, gently tugging Lucifer back to lay with him. 

Lucifer shifted and got comfortable, tucking his head into Sam’s neck. He was starting to get that infamous headache that came without wearing his collar and he rubbed his neck again. 

“Do you want your collar back on?” Sam asked softly. 

Michael turned his head. “I didn’t even realize it was off when I came back,” he admitted. 

Lucifer hesitated, then shook his head. “No, I’m good,” he said. “Just. . . just a little bit longer, please.” 

“Alright,” Sam said, hugging Lucifer close. 

The feeling of warmth and safety overwhelmed Lucifer, and he closed his eyes, relaxing into Sam’s strong arms. 

 

“Lucifer?” 

“Go away,” he mumbled, turning into the source of warmth and burying his head into it. 

“Lucifer,” Michael hummed. “Time for bed.” 

“I’m in bed. It’s very warm,” Lucifer insisted. 

“Lucifer,” Sam chuckled. “You’re on your couch, curled into me. It’s adorable, and I don’t mind, but your couch isn’t made for tall people like us to be cuddling.”

Lucifer opened his eyes and looked up at Sam. “Ugh. You’re right.” 

At some point, they had shifted to laying on their sides, and Lucifer had wedged his knee in between Sam’s legs. 

“Yeah. Also, I really need to pee,” Sam said. “So how about we get up and head to bed?”

“Sleep with me?” The question flew out of Lucifer’s mouth before he could stop it, and he flushed bright red. 

Sam laughed softly. “Sure.” 

“Good.” Lucifer sounded happy. “Warmth.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “I’m going to use the restroom before you two kids destroy it,” he said. “Put up the leftovers.” 

“Yes,  _ Mom _ ,” Lucifer groaned, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his Chinese and got up and off the couch. 

Sam chuckled and stretched on the couch, turning the TV off and collecting the glasses and putting them into the sink. “Mind if I take the bathroom after Michael?” he asked. 

“Help yourself,” Lucifer said, grabbing a rag and making it damp. “Let me know when it’s free.” 

Sam nodded and headed out as Michael came in. 

“Taking the couch, Mike?” Lucifer asked nonchalantly as he wiped down the counters.

“Yes. You’re going to be okay, right?” Michael asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He smiled at Michael and hugged him. “Thanks.” 

“Any time.” Michael hugged Lucifer close and placed a brotherly kiss on his temple. “Now go get snuggles.” 

Grinning, Lucifer went off into his bedroom, sliding off his tank top and pulling off his belt.

He froze then. 

He doesn’t own pajamas. He hasn’t since he was a teenager. Especially after he presented. It’s scarred younger siblings, Michael, parents, college roommates all in the past few years. 

But he has a  _ guest.  _

_ In his bed.  _

_ Fuck.  _

“Lucifer?”

Lucifer turned to look at Sam, who had folded his suit and was standing there in a pair of black boxers with a red waistband. “Hey!” he said. 

Sam set the suit down on the dresser and walked over to cup Lucifer’s cheek. “Need it on?” he asked softly. 

Lucifer sighed. “If only so I don’t wake up in a panic attack,” he admitted. He put his hand in his pocket and withdrew the collar. “Would. . .would you mind?” 

“Of course not,” Sam smiled, gently taking the collar out of Lucifer’s hand. 

Lucifer turned around and tilted his head back. 

The black leather felt cool against his unexpectedly heated flesh and he relaxed when he heard the clasp slip into place and the excess chain carefully laid against his spine. 

“Thank you,” he murmured softly. 

“You’re welcome,” Sam smiled. He patted Lucifer’s hip. “Get ready for bed now. It’s been a long day for you.”

Lucifer nodded. “Alright,” he agreed. He undid his slacks and shoved them, along with his boxers, down his legs. He just wanted sleep. He’ll sleep better naked. It’s not like Sam was naked too.

“Um, did I miss my invitation to the naked party?” Sam asked, raising a brow. He kept his eyes respectfully on Lucifer’s face. 

“I haven’t slept with a stitch of clothing on me since I was fourteen,” Lucifer defended. “You’re battling against twenty years of habit. Besides, it prevents nosy siblings from attempting to wake you up before you are ready.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, you’re in  _ my  _ bed. That doesn’t mean I should have to sacrifice my creature comfort of being naked while I sleep.”

Sam chuckled, his eyes hooded and Lucifer stepped into Sam’s personal space. “Do you have a problem with that?” he asked softly. 

“Me? Have a problem with my crush, one of the hottest guys in existence, being naked in a bed with me?” Sam asked innocently. “Of course not.”

Lucifer flushed lightly, rolling his eyes. He went to turn away but Sam caught his arm and pulled him closer. 

Lucifer was now highly aware of how little clothing was separating the two of them, how hot Sam’s skin felt. 

“Can. . . Can I kiss you?” Sam asked softly, eyes trained on Lucifer’s lips, waiting for him to form the response. 

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat at the question. “You’re. . . you’re asking permission?” he asked softly. 

“I want to,” Sam said, “But only if you do. If you don’t want to, I’ll understand. Especially if you don’t like me the same way I like you. I mean, I hope you do. I really, really hope you do.” His words started tumbling out, and Lucifer couldn’t help it. He grabbed the back of Sam’s head and pulled him in for the kiss, gasping when slightly chapped lips met his in a startled way. He pulled away briefly. 

“Is that enough consent for you?” he whispered softly against his lips. 

“Yes,” Sam whispered, crushing his lips to Lucifer’s again. 

Lucifer wasn’t going to let this kiss overwhelm him, no matter how much he wanted to melt into Sam’s arms. He clung and dug into Sam’s biceps, feeling his hands rest and squeeze his waist as lips, teeth, and tongues battled for the chance to come out on top. 

A low moan escaped from Lucifer’s lips unbidden, and Sam drew away softly, breathing heavily. 

“Fuck,” he whispered. 

“Everything you dreamed of?” Lucifer teased, chest heaving. Hell, if that’s what kissing was like. . . what about everything else?

“More than,” Sam breathed. “You’re good. Fuck, you’re the best.” 

“You flatter me,” Lucifer murmured. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Are you sure?” Sam teased. “Well, if it won’t get me anywhere, will it get me another kiss?”

“That I’ll be willing to give,” Lucifer breathed, leaning in for a sweeter kiss with Sam, shivering as the taller man cupped the back of his head. 

A gentle knock sounded on the door, but they ignored it. Lucifer was more willing to melt into Sam’s touch this time, unable to resist the gentle fingers scratching at the base of his skull. 

The kiss was light, gentle, not about showing the other who was boss, but two equals wanting each other.

“Ahem!” Michael cleared his throat. 

Lucifer jumped and stared wild-eyed at his bedroom door, where Michael was leaning against the doorframe casually, holding the bag from the drugstore. He raised a brow at the two with very little clothing on, kissing and Lucifer looking like he was going to go pliant in Sam’s arms. 

“Sam, you forgot this,” he said with a smirk. “I have the feeling you’re going to need it tonight.” 

“What’s in there?” Lucifer asked. 

“Lotion, lubricant, condoms-- I bought both the flavored and the unflavored-- and a set of handcuffs with a quick release in case you lost the key,” Michael shrugged. 

Lucifer scowled. “Get out of my room, Mike,” he said plaintively. 

“Sam, are you clean? If not, you should probably-” Michael was cut off by Lucifer. 

“OUT OF MY ROOM!” Lucifer shouted, withdrawing from Sam to shoo Michael out of his room. His cheeks were flaming red. 

“I think Sam should answer the question first,” Michael said, clinging onto the doorframe as Lucifer began shoving his older brother out of his room. 

“ _ Michael.  _ It’s a kiss, nothing more, I’m not fucking him, he’s not fucking me, we’re going to go to SLEEP. You know, that state of unconsciousness that’s supposedly so healthy for you? Yeah, that. SLEEP. Now let me go cuddle the human furnace. YOU can sleep alone, on the couch, cold.” Lucifer finally managed to get his brother out of his room and slammed the door shut, locking it. He turned and leaned against the door, breathing heavily. 

“Well, that was a sight to see,” Sam teased. Lucifer turned to find Sam turning down the covers for them to slide into. 

Lucifer flushed. “He’s an asshole,” he grumbled, padding his way over to the bed and sliding into the bed, resting his head on the pillow. 

Sam chuckled and slid in beside Lucifer, smiling as he pulled the older man closer. “Dean did something similar first time I brought someone home. He opened my door and chucked a box of condoms at my head before leaving.” 

“I wish Michael did the same thing,” Lucifer grumbled, replacing his pillow for Sam’s chest. “You don’t snore, do you?”

“No,” Sam chuckled softly, running his fingers through Lucifer’s hair. “Do you?” 

Lucifer shook his head, nuzzling into Sam. 

“Do you not have your own personal body heater?” Sam teased, tugging him closer, wrapping his strong arms around him. 

“I wish,” Lucifer mumbled. He burrowed his head into Sam’s chest and sighed softly. “This is nice,” he murmured. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Sam agreed. He rubbed his hand up and down Lucifer’s back, smiling softly. “Feeling sleepy?” 

“A little,” Lucifer admitted. He pressed himself closer, once again reminded that he was very much naked. “Uhm.” He glanced down and scowled at his cock, which was beginning to show interest.

Sam chuckled softly, almost lazily. “It’s not bothering me,” he murmured. 

“I’m attempting to stab your hip with it, how is it not bothering you?” Lucifer asked, looking up at Sam. 

“Would you like to know how it’s not bothering me?” Sam asked. 

“Sure,” Lucifer said with a shrug. He  _ was  _ curious. 

In the blink of an eye, he was on his back, staring up into Sam’s face as he was lightly pinned down. Sam locked eyes with him as he slowly pressed his hips against Lucifer’s. 

_ Oh.  _

Sam was in the same predicament as Lucifer was, and if the way it lined up against his length was of any indication, Sam was  _ huge. _

“Oh,” he whispered, licking his lips. 

“Yeah. Kind of hard to be annoyed by yours when it’d be hypocritical,” Sam murmured. “Not to mention, again, you’re my crush. The fact that you’re hard is ideal.” 

Lucifer chuckled dryly, leaning up for a kiss that had Sam pressing him back into the mattress as their lips met over and over again, short kisses that caused ragged breaths. Sam made sure that he wasn’t rutting against Lucifer, and Lucifer did struggle against Sam’s hold, but he was  _ strong,  _ stronger than Lucifer, and he whimpered softly, quietly into it. 

“Too much?” Sam whispered. 

“Yes. No! I don’t know,” Lucifer admitted in a hushed voice. 

“Then how about we stop and get some sleep,” Sam proposed. 

Lucifer nodded, closing his eyes and slowing down his racing heart. 

Sam moved off of him and Lucifer immediately was snuggled back into his side, head resting on his chest. 

“Get some sleep, angel,” Sam murmured. “We’ll talk more in the morning.” 

Lucifer smiled and nodded. “Okay,” he whispered, closing his eyes, drifting off into the best sleep he’d ever had. 

 

Morning came too quickly, and as Lucifer’s alarm blared at 4:30, he groaned. Crawling across Sam, he hit the off button and curled back up into Sam. 

The other lawyer chuckled sleepily, patting Lucifer’s shoulder. “No wonder you’re so grumpy in the mornings,” he teased. “This is an early wake up.” 

“Shut up,” Lucifer mumbled. “You’re speaking before coffee.” 

Sam laughed, tilting Lucifer’s face up and leaning in for a kiss. “Can I kiss before coffee?” he teased. 

Lucifer chuckled softly, kissing back. “I suppose,” he teased. Groaning, he threw back the covers and hissed at the cold. Sitting up at the edge of the bed, he stretched and cracked his neck before padding off to the bathroom. 

He skipped the collar part of his morning routine. He recognized he needed a break from trying to break its hold on him, especially because he went so long with minimal wearage the day before. He did take it off for his shower, but once he spread the lotion to prevent chafing and observed the mottled pattern of bruises along his neck, he slid the collar back on. He still repeated the mantra quietly as he moisturized and combed his hair, padding back into his bedroom. 

Sam was already dressed in everything but his tie and suit jacket from the day before, the top three buttons undone on his shirt. “That’s a sight I could get used to,” he murmured, kissing the top of Lucifer’s hair as he passed. 

Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully as he got dressed in everything but his collared shirt, tie, and suit jacket. Throwing them over his arm, he looked back at Sam, who was observing his closet. 

“Do you have  _ any  _ other suits?” he asked incredulously. 

Lucifer shrugged. “I’ve got a tux I never wear,” he admitted. “But that’s about the extent of it.”

Sam shook his head, watching Lucifer head out of the room. “That’s insane. I just thought you wore the same suit every day, and got it dry cleaned once a week.” 

Lucifer laughed. “Nah, I just have the same suit. Some different cuts, some different styles, but it’s all the same one.” He winked. “It’s my brand, don’t diss it.” 

“It does make you instantly recognizable,” Sam agreed, following him out. 

Michael was already at the stove, making egg and cheese sandwiches. A pot of coffee, sans one cup, had been brewed. 

“Oh good, coffee,” Lucifer breathed happily, grabbing a coffee mug off the counter and pouring himself some. 

Sam chuckled and looked at Michael. “Thank you, Michael. This is very much appreciated.” 

Michael smiled at the youngest lawyer in the room. “You’re welcome, Sam. Now.” He turned and brandished the spatula at Sam. “I know you like Lucifer. A lot.” 

“ _ Michael, _ ” Lucifer groaned, knowing where this was going. Michael’s given this talk before, to all his younger siblings. He’s heard Michael lecture every single suitor any of them brought home. He  _ had  _ been safe. Until now. 

“Shut up,” Michael told his younger brother before turning back to Sam. “I know that you have genuine feelings for him. But if I find out that you are being dishonest about your intentions with my little brother-” 

“Michael,” Lucifer tried to interject again. 

Michael talked over him, “I will  _ personally  _ see to it that you cannot be hired by another law firm again, either here or abroad. Do we have an understanding?” 

Sam smiled. “We do. But my intentions with Lucifer are honorable. I promise that.” 

“Good.” Michael smiled and slid an egg sandwich onto a plate and placed in front of Lucifer. “How do you like your eggs, Sam?” 

“Fried, please, Michael.” Sam ruffled Lucifer’s hair. 

“Michael,” Lucifer said, turning to look at his older brother. “I am a grown ass man in my thirties. I do  _ not  _ need you to threaten potential boyfriends for me. I can take care of myself.” 

“Lucifer,” Michael said with a sigh, “let me indulge. You’re the only sibling I haven’t done it to yet, and you won’t get the double dose of it.” 

“Yes, I will, you  _ know  _ Castiel will do it,” Lucifer protested. 

“Truth,” Michael chuckled. “Just. . . let me have my moment.” 

“ _ Fine. _ ”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Lucifer find some unexpected help, and they start taking Crowley and Alastair down.

Lucifer sighed as the newest paralegal handed the precedents and the dissenting opinion she had written to him. “Thank you,” he said absently. He was busy looking at the camera he had set up in Crowley’s office, waiting for the right moment for him and Sam to burst in and bust him. 

“Mr. Alighieri?” the paralegal asked. “I found something out about Mr. Crowley, if you would care to hear it.” 

He looked up from his computer, watching the paralegal tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m listening.” 

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Crowley has been accepting bribes from various clients of his, and he’s tried to pass it off on a couple of the paralegals, myself included.” 

Lucifer leaned forward. “Do you know which clients?” he asked. 

She nodded. “The biggest one is Dr. Picasso, Mr. Alighieri,” she said. She adjusted her choker as she spoke. “He’s accepted bribes from other clients, mostly rich, yet subpar authors.” 

Lucifer nodded, making a note of it. “Have you ever accepted any money yourself that Crowley has given you?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “No, Mr. Alighieri. I just noticed because he wants the subpar authors to get their hit, and decent authors are left in the dust.” 

“Yourself included?” he asked. 

She nodded. “Me and a freelance writer friend of mine, we’ve been working on a novel together, as well as other projects. We’ve used Mr. Crowley before, but he seems incapable of getting us any sort of publishing deal. We switched to Mr. Alighieri-- Balthazar, that is-- last week, and I just got the confirmation that he got us in with Random House publishing.” 

Lucifer smiled. “Congratulations,” he said. 

She inclined her head. “Thank you, Mr. Alighieri. So I did a little digging.”

“And that’s how you found all the bribes?” he asked. “How much of this digging was illegal?” 

“Most of it, Mr. Alighieri,” she admitted. “I was able to hack into his computer and then had Ms. Bradbury from IT help me get into his bank account and his Paypal account. I have the printouts if you want them.” 

Lucifer smiled. “That would be appreciated, Miss. . .?” 

“Sterling, Mr. Alighieri. Nichole Sterling,” the paralegal said. 

Lucifer nodded. “Good work, Miss Sterling. I’d like for you to hand me the printouts, and I’ll talk to Balthazar about your good work.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Alighieri,” she said, pinking slightly. 

He rummaged through his paperwork and found Lilith Daemon’s casefile. “Here’s the Daemon casefile,” he said. “Read through it, and find precedents for me.” 

She took it and held it on her hip as she smiled. “Yes, Mr. Alighieri. I’ll get those printouts to you as soon as possible.” 

“Good,” Lucifer smiled. 

She smiled and left his office, pulling out her phone as she walked. 

Lucifer sighed and looked through the paperwork that she just handed him, a wrap up with precedents and case law about the Roman case. 

Sam came in a few minutes later, bearing two fresh mugs of coffee for the two of them. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked. 

“We have a paralegal with the eye of a private investigator,” Lucifer said. “She and a friend have been trying to get Crowley to help them get a publishing deal to no avail. They went to Balthazar and got a deal with Random House.” 

Sam raised a brow. “Okay, so maybe Crowley’s standards are higher?” he inquired.

“According to Miss Sterling, not so,” Lucifer said. “So with the help of Ms. Bradbury in IT, she hacked into Crowley’s system. He’s been accepting bribes and commissions on the side for some truly horrible authors, and getting them the publishing deals that she and her friend deserve.” 

“Sterling. . . she’s the Switch, right? Short, petite, always seems to be on her phone or in the library?” Sam asked, scrunching up his face in thought. 

“That’s her,” Lucifer confirmed.  

“She’s one of the best researchers in the firm, I’ve noticed. Quick and accurate,” Sam noted. 

Lucifer nodded. “She’ll be in with printouts,” he said. “Between that and the hacking I’ve done, we’ll be able to bring Crowley down.” 

Sam rubbed his hand over his face. “So we’ll get him for bribery, which is a either a class A misdemeanor or a class E or D felony, but it’ll also throw him out of public office, and he’ll lose his right to practice law. Sterling and her friend could also get him in civil court, for the lawyers’ fees they wasted because of his idiocy.” 

Lucifer nodded. “We can burn his kingdom down,” he said. 

There was a rap on the door, and Sam got up to allow Nichole in. 

“The printouts you requested, Mr. Alighieri,” she said, handing him a black folder.

“Thank you, Miss Sterling,” Lucifer said, taking the folder and laying it down on the desk. “Let us know if you want to press civil charges against Mr. Crowley.” 

She smiled. “Let me talk to my friend, and we’ll decide. I’m sure she’ll agree to a civil class lawsuit for the lawyers’ fees paid and quite possibly the percentage of royalties we’ll be getting.” 

Lucifer chuckled. “Of course.” 

“You might also want to get him for being an accessory for sexual assault and domestic violence,” she mentioned. “Mrs. Picasso had turned up at Mr. Crowley’s door, and he actually held her at knife point until Dr. Picasso showed up. I found an email exchange while I was digging detailing this, through his personal email. He also helped with the. . . punishment.” She swallowed, shaking her head. 

“Video proof?” Lucifer asked. 

She nodded. “I can give you his login information, if you like,” she said helpfully. 

Lucifer smiled, handing her a stack of post it notes and a pen. “Please.” 

“Now, how does a paralegal learn to hack?” Sam asked with a smile. 

Nichole gave a half smirk. “My sister is married to a Submissive who is a computer whiz. He taught me a few basic tricks and I slowly improved. I then met Charlie.” She shrugged. “Lots of people don’t pay attention to Switches. We’re often left out. So it’s easy to pretend you’re a silly little Submissive who doesn’t know anything and can quietly hack, or a brash Dominant who is overcompensating for something.” She smiled. “If I remember correctly, if you get him as an accessory to sexual assault and domestic violence, those sentences the DA will want to be consecutive. That’s at least fifteen years for the sexual assault, and five for domestic violence. Add that to at least fourteen bribery charges, which will be concurrent, and you have another fifteen years, max. If we go full max and Mr. Crowley goes to trial and is convicted, or if he accepts the plea deal, that’s thirty-five years in a medium security prison.” 

Sam and Lucifer smiled. “That’ll be all, Miss Sterling,” Lucifer said with a nod. 

Nichole nodded and exited the office, pulling out her phone. 

“God, I love paralegals,” Lucifer sighed happily. “Let’s go over her printouts, and think of a nice Switch or Dominant to pair her with.”

Sam chuckled. “Playing matchmaker?” he teased as he snagged the folder from Lucifer. 

“Hey, that’s my job,” Lucifer joked. He ran his hand over his face. “I’ve got a cousin who’s a Switch. He’s done some time, but he’s doing a lot better.” 

“What did he do time for?” Sam asked, pulling up one of Crowley’s bank statements.

“Some fighting that he nearly killed someone for,” Lucifer shrugged dismissively. “It should’ve been attempted involuntary manslaughter or justifiable attempted homicide, but somehow he got convicted of second degree attempted. He was just a kid, eighteen then. He got out on good behavior like six years later though, and he’s doing well for himself. Works security.” 

“Why do I have the feeling I know what cousin you’re talking about?” Sam asked with a raised brow. 

“Who do you think it is, then?” Lucifer asked, pulling up a recent PayPal statement. 

“Cain,” Sam said with a shrug.

“No, but depending on her friend, that’d work,” Lucifer said, pointing a red pen at him. “I was thinking Gadreel.” 

“Hold on a minute. Your cousin is pro MMA fighter, head of Penikett Security Gadreel Penikett?” Sam asked in disbelief. 

Lucifer nodded. “We can ask her when she comes back in in about thirty minutes,” he said. 

“Ask her what?” Sam cocked his head to the side curiously. 

“If she wants to come to the family reunion, so I can stealthily set her up with Gadreel,” Lucifer chuckled. 

Sam chuckled. “And her friend for Cain?” he queried.

Lucifer nodded. 

Nichole  _ did  _ come back thirty minutes later, handing Lucifer another black folder. “I printed off all the communications between Mr. Crowley and Dr. Picasso, I figured they’d be useful to prove that he was an accessory, and we might be able to stick a second degree sexual assault charge on him,” she commented. 

Lucifer nodded. “Miss Sterling, are you and your friend single?” 

“Myself? Yes,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Drea? Nah. She’s been married to Rowena MacLeod for years.” 

“Hang on,” Sam said, turning in his seat. “Your friend is Crowley’s stepmother?” 

Nichole nodded. “Another reason we want to bring him down,” she shrugged. “Mr. Crowley insults Drea every time he’s over for tea, or for any purpose to see his mother. I think he’s just bitter that Ro didn’t marry another man after his father passed away. They’ve only been married for a few years. But Drea’s happy with Ro. And Ro’s her biggest cheerleader.” She smiled happily. “They’re adorable together.”

“Would you like to meet a nice young Switch?” Lucifer asked. “He’s hot, he’s tall, he’s hunky, and he’s got a good paying job. Although, I think you might be the breadwinner.” 

“When and where?” Nichole asked, looking up from her phone. “Apologies, it’s Drea. We’re trying to plan on when to meet with our agent.”

Lucifer nodded. “It’s in two weeks, at my father’s place,” he said. “Dress code is casual. Which for you equates to probably a summer dress.” 

Nichole laughed. “Let me know date and time,” she promised without promising before leaving. 

Sam whistled. “Ready to go kick Crowley’s ass?” he asked. 

“Sure,” Lucifer said. “Let’s build our case and have Nichole write up a nice little “fuck you” letter, though.”

Sam grinned. Glancing out the windows of Lucifer’s office, he reached across the desk and laid a gentle hand on Lucifer’s. “How are you doing?” he asked softly. 

Lucifer smiled up at Sam. “I’m doing okay,” he admitted honestly. “Lot better since you spent the night a few days ago.” 

Sam nodded. “Want me to come over this weekend?” he asked. “Sans interrupting and embarrassing Michael?” 

Lucifer chuckled. “I’d like that,” he confessed. 

 

Nichole came back two days later, her face as pale as if she had seen a ghost, and Sam helped ease her down into a chair. 

“Can I get you a glass of water?” Lucifer asked, standing up. 

“Please,” she mumbled. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

Lucifer hurried and got her a glass of water while Sam kneeled next to her, holding her hand and talking to her soothingly. 

“Here,” Lucifer said softly, handing her the glass of water.

She took a few slow sips, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths before opening them again. 

“I decided to go through Crowley’s Facebook,” she murmured softly, “And I saw an exchange with Dr. Picasso.” 

The two nodded, waiting patiently for her to speak again. 

“I’m fairly certain Mr. Alighieri knows, but Alastair’s son recently presented as Submissive,” she continued. “And in exchange for his help at ‘disciplining his naughty Submissive’. . .” she trailed off and took a long drink of water. 

Sam squeezed her hand reassuringly. 

“Take your time, Miss Sterling,” Lucifer murmured, resting a hand on her knee. 

Nichole swallowed her water. “He married his son to Mr. Crowley. It’s a forced marriage-- the kid was intoxicated at the ceremony, and since he’s sixteen he needed parental consent, but Alastair took care of that, obviously.” She swallowed a lungful of air. 

“Okay, I take it that there’s something else involved there,” Sam said slowly. 

“I’m not sure what else, maybe a little digging into Dr. Picasso’s side, or maybe Mr. Crowley will strike a plea deal or something with the DA, but there was a message from Dr. Picasso before the farce of a wedding saying ‘It’s been done, but the worthless  _ ingenting _ misbehaved. I hope you don’t mind extra damage’.” She swallowed. 

Lucifer swallowed his rage. “I think that’s talking about a botched circumcision right there,” he whispered. 

Sam looked at Lucifer in horror. “Which means-” 

“Child abuse, forced marriage, medical mutilation, child endangerment, and probably a few medical violations that’ll cause him to lose his right to practice,” Nichole croaked. “I almost wish he sent pictures of the damage but thank God he didn’t. I don’t think. . .” She shuddered. “We could probably also get him on human and sex trafficking. . .” 

Lucifer patted Nichole’s knee with a gentle smile. “Why don’t you take the day off?” he suggested softly. “You’re no good to us all jittery like this-- although, from the sounds of it, you have every right to be. The Daemon case can wait a few more days, as can this business with Crowley. Hell, go over and visit your friend.” 

Sam nodded. “Did you drive?” he asked, standing up. 

Nichole shook her head. “I walked. I live maybe five blocks away.” 

Lucifer looked down at her feet. “Wearing four inch heels?” he asked skeptically. 

She chuckled lazily, almost curling in on herself. “Yeah.” 

“I’ll drive you, if that’s okay with Mr. Alighieri,” Sam offered. 

Lucifer nodded. “Go relax, Miss Sterling. And once again, you’ve been a tremendous help.” 

Nichole smiled softly. “Thank you, Mr. Alighieri,” she said. 

“No problem,” Lucifer said honestly. 

Sam helped Nichole up and placed an arm around her shoulders as he led her from the office, still talking in a soothing tone. 

Lucifer waited until his door was shut and he made his blinds close before he let out a growl and punched his desk. 

_ I’ll burn your Kingdom down.  _

 

Lucifer knocked politely on Crowley’s door. Behind him were Sam and Nichole, who was busy tapping away on her phone and juggling a padfolio containing several pieces of paper. 

Crowley opened the door and smirked. “Mr. Alighieri. Mr. Winchester. Miss Sterling. Please, come in.” He raised a brow at Nichole but she paid him no mind as she moved past the three men and into the office in a strong, confident way. 

Crowley closed the door behind him as Lucifer and Sam stepped in. “Is there something I can help you three with?” he asked. 

Lucifer and Sam both looked at Nichole. 

Nichole put her phone in her suit pocket before opening her padfolio. “Well, first off, Mr. Crowley, this is a summons to civil court,” she said in a strong voice, pulling out the right sheet of paper, “with you as the defendant and myself and Mrs. Drea MacLeod as the plaintiffs.” 

“You two are suing me?” Crowley scoffed as he took the paper. “For how much?” 

“For the maximum each, so $7,500 for myself and $7,500 for Mrs. MacLeod,” Nichole said. “So, $15,000 all together. It’s two separate court dates, since it’s two separate people. You’re more than welcome to settle this out of court, this is our lawyer.” She slipped the business card of a lawyer from within the firm across his desk, which he had sat behind in order to read through the summons. 

“This isn’t about the failed publishing deals, now is it?” Crowley asked. 

“It is. And that brings me-- and us, in general-- to point two.” Nichole withdrew a police report and slid it across the desk, green eyes flashing. “I’m counting fourteen counts bribery, one accessory to aggravated assault, one count of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, one count of accessory to sexual assault, one count of intimidation, one count of conspiracy to child endangerment, one count of statutory rape, two counts of forcible rape, one count of sex trafficking, and one count of human trafficking. That’s twenty-four charges being brought against you.” 

Crowley scoffed and looked over the police report. “I’ll deny everything,” he said. 

“We have proof,” Sam said, standing behind Nichole. “Proof we’re sure you don’t want out. That’s quite a few felony charges on there.”

Nichole nodded. “That’s roughly fourteen counts of a class D felony, three misdemeanors, only because of the way the state of California works these things, three class C felonies, two class B felonies, and a class A felony”. She rattled them off like she was reciting a grocery list. 

Crowley looked between the three of them. “You can’t be serious,” he murmured. 

“Oh, but we  _ are, _ ” Lucifer said, flanking Nichole’s and Sam’s sides. “We’re absolutely serious. By the way, if you’re convicted of any of the bribery charges, you’ll lose your license to practice law.”

“Not to mention with the sexual assault charges on your case,” Sam added, “there’s no way you  _ wouldn’t  _ be added to the sex offender’s registry.”

“Which would basically guarantee you to be unable to practice law,” Nichole continued. “I hear San Quentin’s nice this time of year. Not sure where they would place child rapists, so you better hope they weed you out of West Block. I could always give my cousin Danny a call, but I don’t think that’s his division.” She gave a thoughtful hum. “Never quite understood why child rapists are given special housing. I mean, I know the logic behind it, but if the Eighth Amendment of cruel and unusual punishment weren’t in play. . .” she let herself trail off, giving way to a slow smirk. 

Crowley swallowed. 

“Think on that, Mr. Crowley,” Nichole said, as if she hadn’t essentially threatened the much older man, “Oh, and I’m so sorry to say, but no lawyer at Alighieri and Sons will be yours. Apparently bribery is highly frowned upon. I’m surprised I don’t see Mr. Balthazar Alighieri coming at you with security.” She gave a little wave. “See you in court, Mr. Crowley. Now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I need to look up that precedent in the Daemon case for you, Mr. Alighieri.” 

Lucifer nodded, dismissing her.

She walked out, her phone blaring a random phrase in German as she left. “ _ Tag, Drea. Wie geht’s? Ja, ich komme gerade aus seinem Büro. Habe ihm die Papiere vorbeigebracht. Ich komme zum Tee vorbei. Sag Ro, sie soll schon mal den Kessel aufsetzen. _ ”

“You gentlemen are being a bit unreasonable,” Crowley said, straightening his tie. “Especially one of you. Though I suppose that comes around with  _ that  _ kind of presentation.” 

Sam bristled, but Lucifer laid a calming hand on Sam. “Hate speech is also against the law, Mr. Crowley,” he said smoothly. “I would hate for Miss Sterling to have to forgo having tea with her best friend and best friend’s wife in order to file another police report.” 

“You know, Mr. Alighieri,” Crowley said, standing up and walking back around the desk, “there’s a saying among Dominants. You probably know it, or if you don’t, the young Mr. Winchester here does. What was it again? Ah, yes. ‘Even a little nothing is something. Nothing’.” 

Lucifer didn’t  have time to reply to that disgusting statement, because Sam was solidly punching Crowley in the mouth. 

Lucifer looked at Sam after that, ignoring Crowley swearing. “I could’ve done that,” he protested. 

Sam huffed, blowing chestnut curls out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I just hear that and see red.”

_ Ugh,  _ Lucifer thought, surprising himself with the next one,  _ yet thank you for punching him, that was hot.  _ Instead of voicing that, however, he simply nodded and turned his head slightly. “I’ll have Balthazar come by to throw you out. Have a nice life, Mr. Crowley.” Turning on his heel, he walked out, Sam trailing behind him. 

_ One down, one to go.  _


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael, Lucifer, and Nichole visit Alastair, and Alastair digs himself a bigger hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has a brief scene depicting domestic abuse. If you cannot handle, skip.

Lucifer stood in front of Alastair’s opulent home, this time with Michael and Nichole. Sam was busy, as there was a family emergency (all Lucifer knew was that Dean had injured himself during a job), so Lucifer enlisted the aid of Michael to help bring Alastair down. 

The door opened and Alastair leered at the trio. “Mr. Alighieri, Mr. Alighieri,” he greeted, ignoring the woman briefly. “Come in, and tell me who this beautiful young woman is.” 

“I’m able to speak for myself,” Nichole said once they were inside, thrusting her right hand out to shake. “Nichole Sterling. I’m a paralegal working at Alighieri and Sons.” 

Alastair took her hand and shook it. “Dr. Alastair Picasso,” he simpered, enclosing her hand with both of his. “It is a pleasure.” 

Lucifer and Michael exchanged a look.

Nichole gave a very tolerant smile. “I am sure it is,” she said softly. 

“Switch?” he asked. 

“I don’t see how my presentation is relevant,” Nichole said dryly. “I’m working, I do the work I’m assigned. I don’t give a rat’s ass about my presentation.” 

Alastair chuckled softly, releasing her hand. “Well, gentlemen, I’d say you brought her in to have a consult done, but. . .” he circled around the young woman like a vulture, “I’d have to say that there’d be nothing I could do.” 

“Nor is there anything you should do,” Nichole snipped. “I love my body the way it is. Now, business.” She opened her padfolio. “Did you receive a list of the charges being brought against you?” she asked, pulling out a copy of the police report.

“Yes, I do believe so. Ridiculous accusations,” Alastair waved a hand. “Everything on there is a lie.” 

“Really?” Nichole raised a brow. “You have three bribery charges, domestic battery, sexual assault, child abuse, child endangerment, human trafficking, sex trafficking, and medical malpractice being brought against you, and yet you’re insisting that everything on there is a lie?” 

“Well of course,” Alastair said, sounding shocked. “I mean, you  _ did  _ see who filed the report, didn’t you?”

“Me,” Nichole said. “Nichole J. Sterling.” 

“Who else?” Alastair pressed. 

“That is irrelevant on who is bringing the charges forth,” Nichole said. 

“So you don’t care that one of your bosses is a. . . .shall we say,  _ og litt av ingenting? _ ” 

“Personally, I don’t care about presentation,” Nichole snapped. “Whether a person’s wearing a collar, carrying a striking implement, or can do either has no bearing, in my opinion, on whether or not they can do the job. And I’m not sure what exactly your little phrase is, but I can give a good guess.” 

“You have no proof that I have done any of this,” Alastair said smoothly. 

Michael snorted. “We have a lot of proof, jackass,” he snarked. 

“Mr. Alighieri,” Nichole said, looking up at the older Dominant, “Please. Let the para handle this.” 

Mollified, Michael inclined his head. “Apologies.” 

“Granted.” Nichole returned her verdant gaze upon Alastair. “We have bank statements, CCTV feeds, and a couple of other things. Oh, and your buddy Mr. Crowley has already confessed to a few of these charges.” She tapped her padfolio rhythmically. “The only one that we need for sure is testimony from your wife and your son. The eldest one, not the one who seems to be the apple of your eye because he didn’t present Submissive.” 

Alastair raised a brow. “Mr. Crowley was weak, then,” he dismissed. “When one has one of the best lawyers in the country-”

“I’m afraid to tell you this, Dr. Picasso,” Lucifer spoke, not sounding very sorry at all, “but I won’t be able to represent you. Between the bribery charges conducted and the trafficking, it would be considered a conflict of interest.”

“Husband?” 

The quartet turned their heads to see Tessa in a thin white nightgown, looking small and timid. 

“What are you doing out of that bed, bitch?” Alastair snapped, forgetting who he was in the presence of. Nichole gave a slight incline of her head, and Michael raised his phone slightly to record, pretending he was using it. “Get back in bed, and don’t get out!” 

“Dr. Picasso,” Nichole said, walking up calmly and resting a hand on Alastair’s shoulder. Squeezing it, she got his attention. “If you don’t desist, I won’t have a choice but to call the police on you.” 

“She’s just a little nothing,” Alastair sneered. “Just something for me to use for whatever I want. She’s  _ mine. _ Keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong, brat.” 

“Did she consent to be yours, of her own free will? Or was she ‘given’ to you as a gift?” Nichole snarked.

“Does it matter which? She’s mine, I get to do with her what I want.” Alastair turned back to Tessa, who was hugging the doorframe. “What part about getting back in bed didn’t you understand, you worthless whore? Can’t even provide me a firstborn to take on the family name.” 

“Well good thing you have more children,” Nichole rolled her eyes. “Dr. Picasso-” 

Alastair delivered a stunning backhand to Nichole’s face, sending the small woman reeling back. 

Lucifer sprang into action, running over and twisting Alastair’s arm up and behind his back. “Oh look, aggravated assault,” he hissed in his ear. “You’re going to be  _ done  _ with, Alastair. Dealt with properly.”

Alastair gave a sickly laugh as Michael began calling the police. “You’re nothing, Lucifer,” he whispered. “You’re  _ nothing. _ ” 

“Yeah?” Lucifer murmured, twisting the arm more. “Tell me how this isn’t anything.”

Michael hung up and looked at Lucifer. “Police and an ambulance will be here in five minutes,” he said. “Miss Sterling?” 

“I’m okay,” she said, wiping her nose, hand coming away stained with blood. “Just a bloody nose and probably a fat lip. I’ll be cool.” She approached the cowering woman, who was looking at Alastair in fear. “Tessa? My name is Nichole,” she said softly. 

“You stood up to him,” she whispered. 

“I did. I don’t like men who think it is alright to beat a woman, nor do I like a Dominant who thinks there is nothing wrong with beating a Submissive,” Nichole smiled tenderly. “Can you leave this area? We should take you to the hospital.” 

“You’re not taking her  _ anywhere,  _ you whore,” Alastair spat. 

Nichole ignored him. “Tessa?” 

“He’s. . . he’s chained me,” she whispered softly. “By my ankle.” 

Nichole threw a dirty look over at Alastair. “Be sure to add ‘unlawful imprisonment’ onto that laundry list of his,” she snapped before kneeling down. She looked at the chain around Tessa’s ankle before looking at Lucifer. “I need a key, Mr. Alighieri,” she said.    
“Where’s the key, Alastair?” Lucifer hissed. 

“I don’t speak to  _ nothings, _ ” Alastair sneered, struggling against Lucifer’s grip. 

Michael grabbed Alastair’s chin as Lucifer twisted the arm more, a sickening crunch echoing in the room. “Where is the key,  _ Doctor? _ ” he snarled. 

“On my nightstand, in the drawer,” Alastair spat.

Michael raced to get it.

“You broke my arm,” Alastair snarled, trying to get back at Lucifer. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Yeah? Be thankful I haven’t broken your skull open,” Lucifer whispered in a low, calm voice. He watched as Michael handed Nichole the key. Thanking him, Nichole freed Tessa and began working on calming her down. 

The police came and luckily, both Michael and Lucifer only had to give their statements. They quietly talked with police about Crowley, and the child groom that he ended up buying, in essence, and where to place Tessa for a good long while, as well as her sons. The police said that they would put them in a hotel, out of Alastair’s pocket, with a police escort. Confident with that, the two waited for the Switch to finish being seen by EMTs about her bloody nose and fat lip, comforting Tessa as she gave her statement to the police. 

Nichole finished and she made her way over to the Alighieris present. “Well, gentlemen, shall we?” she asked, holding her padfolio close to her body. 

“How are you so calm?” Michael asked as he led them back towards his car. 

Nichole shrugged. “I’m used to being in fights. Comes with the territory of being a Switch.”

“Well, the firm thanks you for your help,” Michael said. 

Lucifer slid into the front seat with a content sigh and smiled. 

“It’s no problem, Mr. Alighieri,” Nichole said with a smile as she slid into the backseat. “Always happy to help, especially in cases such as these.”

Michael nodded before closing her door and looking at Lucifer. “Tired?” he asked. 

Lucifer nodded. “Just a bit.”

Michael smiled and ran his fingers through Lucifer’s hair. “You’re doing great,” he praised. 

Lucifer smiled and leaned into Michael’s touch. 

Michael began driving Nichole out to her apartment on the other side of town. 

Halfway there, Lucifer looked into the backseat at Nichole. “Miss Sterling?” 

“Yes, Mr. Alighieri?” she asked, looking up from the blue light of her phone. 

“Does. . .” he hesitated on how to word what he was about to ask. He knew that by now, she knew he was actually a Submissive.

“Are you wondering if you being a Submissive bothers me?” she arched an eyebrow. 

He flushed. “Is it that obvious?” he asked sheepishly. 

“Yes, it is. And no, it does not.” She rolled out her neck. “Presentations don’t matter. The work does. You’re one of the best defense lawyers in the nation, Mr. Alighieri, and you’ve done that with a heavy burden on your shoulders. That, in my opinion, proves to me more that you’re an excellent employer rather than the fact that you wear a collar around your neck.” 

Lucifer smiled. “You should be a lawyer,” he said. 

“Pass,” Nichole laughed. “I like being a paralegal. I get to be thrown into a law library and told to research and write. It’s my dream job, Mr. Alighieri.”

Lucifer and Michael chuckled. “If you say so, Miss Sterling,” Lucifer said. “And thank you.” 

“Not a problem, Mr. Alighieri.” A slow smirk spread across her face. “Are you going to be visiting Mr. Winchester tonight?” 

Lucifer stared at her, and she giggled. 

“The two of you have been making gaga eyes for a while now,” Nichole explained. “It’s cute. And Mr. Winchester’s a good man. Right?” 

“Right,” Michael answered for Lucifer. 

“He’s coming over tomorrow,” Lucifer sighed. “And yes, Michael, he’s my plus one for the dinner.” 

“Oh good,” Michael sighed. 

“And Miss Sterling in the back will be attending,” Lucifer added. 

“Oh dear God,” Michael chuckled. “Which of our cousins are you being Yente the Matchmaker to?” 

“Gad,” Lucifer said. “He needs someone.” 

“Good choice,” Michael complimented. 

They dropped Nichole off and Lucifer called Sam while Michael escorted her to the door. 

_ It’s Sam, leave a message.  _

“Hey, Sam,” Lucifer said softly with a smile. “We got Alastair arrested and Tessa and her younger son is safe. They’ll get David out tonight or tomorrow, whenever they can get the manpower. I. . . I miss you. I can’t wait until tomorrow.” He rubbed underneath his shirt, at his collar. “Talk to you in the morning.”

He hung up and waited for Michael to return to the car. 

Michael returned and began driving Lucifer to his apartment. 

Sam texted as soon as Lucifer went to open his door. 

_ Glad you’re okay, angel. I’ll have my phone nearby if you need me tonight. Take care of yourself. Xx _

Lucifer smiled and texted back.  _ Will do. Thanx.  _

Lucifer went to bed that night with a huge sigh of relief. 

_ Everything was falling into place.  _


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alighieri family gathering is more interesting than usual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not apologize for the amount of times Fiddler on the Roof is referred to in this fic.

Lucifer sighed as he drove up to the family gathering, looking over at Sam and squeezing his hand. In the backseat, Nichole was tapping away at her phone. All three were dressed for a late summer, early fall cookout, and Lucifer ran a finger over the black collar. 

“You look fine,” Sam assured him. He squeezed Lucifer’s hand and looked at Nichole in the back. “Put the phone away, Nichole, we’re here.” 

“One moment, Drea and I are ironing out details,” Nichole said absently. “We have to book a photography session for our book jackets.” 

Lucifer chuckled and looked at Sam, smiling at him while they waited. 

“Okay, I’m done, Drea just said something about needing alone time with Ro and I vividly remember the last time I interrupted alone time.” 

Lucifer chuckled. “Not an experience you’d like to repeat?” he queried. 

“Nah, not really,” she said, opening the car door and sliding out. She waited for the men to get out, smoothing out the black and white sundress.

Lucifer got out and waved as Gabriel waved at him, Sam getting out right behind him. “Shall we join the chaos?” he asked pleasantly. 

“Sure,” Nichole said, stepping up behind Lucifer and adjusting his collar idly. 

“Thanks,” he said, smiling down at her. It was a weird sensation, her being so much shorter than him. 

Nichole beamed before waiting for Sam to take Lucifer’s hand, and the trio set off. 

“Lucifer! Have you found yourself a Dominant at long last?” A balding man with a ponch and an overly eager to please demeanor about him hailed them down. 

“Not yet confirmed, Zachariah,” Lucifer said coolly. “But this is the Dominant I’m currently seeing, yes. Sam, meet Zachariah. He’s one of our off branch family members.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Sam said politely. 

“And who is  _ this  _ charming young lady?” Zachariah asked, gazing at Nichole like a man would gaze upon at meat at a butcher shop. Or an animal gazing at its prey. 

“Nichole Sterling, I’m a paralegal at Alighieri and Sons,” Nichole said, sticking her hand out to shake. 

“Switch? Don’t you. . . typically hide?” Zachariah asked, shaking her hand and noting the lack of collar or crop. 

Nichole rolled her eyes. “Some of us do,” she said, “But why hide when you can make a difference in the world?” 

Zachariah gave a simpering smile, as if he agreed with her. 

“Where’s my father, Zachariah?” Lucifer asked, not liking the way Zachariah was eyeing up his favorite paralegal. 

“Over by the apple trees, with his typewriter.” Zachariah waved in the general direction of the patriarch of the Alighieri family. “Oh, and Luce? Metatron’s here. Please. . . don’t do anything stupid.” 

“Metatron. As in, Metatron Alighieri?” Nichole asked with a raised brow. 

“Very same,” Zachariah nodded. “I take it you’ve heard of him?” 

Nichole snorted derisively. “Unfortunately. ‘Best-selling author’ and ‘horrible author’ are not mutually exclusive, I’m afraid. We’ve met. Briefly. I nearly punched him in his face.”

“Please don’t do that here,” Lucifer chuckled. “Thank you, Zachariah.” 

Zachariah smiled and waved at Nichole who was glancing down at her phone. 

“Checking in to see if Drea’s done with ‘alone time’?” Sam teased her. 

She shook her head. “E-mail from my editor at Random House. I had sent her my manuscript last night.” 

“Has she started on it?” Lucifer asked as he lead them over to where his father was typing away. 

“She’s already halfway done.” There was a note of pride in Nichole’s voice. 

Chuck looked up as they approached. “Lucifer! How are you doing?” he asked, standing up and walking around the table. 

Lucifer chuckled and hugged Chuck with a smile. “I’m doing okay, Dad,” he said. “Much better than before.” 

“Good. Now, I can guess that this is Sam,” Chuck said, withdrawing and nodding at the other Dominant, “But who is this lovely young lady?” 

“Paralegal at the firm,” Lucifer said. “And an author herself. Dad, this is Nichole Sterling. Nichole, this is my dad, Charles Alighieri.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Alighieri,” Nichole said, leaning in to take Chuck’s hand.

“Likewise, Miss Sterling.” Chuck looked up at Lucifer with an amused eye. “Playing Yente the Matchmaker, again?” he asked in a teasing voice. 

Sam looked utterly confused. “Yente the Matchmaker?” 

“ _ Please  _ tell me you’ve at least HEARD of  _ Fiddler on the Roof? _ ” Lucifer looked up at the Dominant with wide eyes. 

“Ummmm no?” Sam looked apologetic. 

Lucifer turned to look at Nichole. She grinned. “If you’re Yente,” she said, “Which daughter does that make me? Tzeitel, Hodel, or Chava?” 

“Oh thank Jesus fuck,” Lucifer sighed happily. 

“What IS it?” Sam asked curiously. 

“It’s a musical,” Lucifer said. 

“About a Jewish family in pre-revolutionary Russia,” Nichole supplied helpfully. “Tevye is a milkman who is trying to find matches for his three eldest daughters.” 

“I think you’d be Hodel,” Lucifer chuckled. 

“Well then,” Nichole laughed, humming a little. “Matchmaker matchmaker, make me a match. Find me a find, catch me a catch. Matchmaker matchmaker, look through your book- and make me a perfect match.” 

Lucifer ruffled her hair playfully. “Yes, yes, I will, believe me.” 

“CHUCKLES!” 

Lucifer and Chuck groaned in unison and Nichole turned to find Metatron strolling across the green. 

“Chuckles?” Sam asked with a raised brow. 

“I go by Chuck amongst family,” Lucifer’s father explained, “and Metatron delights in calling me Chuckles.” 

Lucifer was suddenly tugged down to have Metatron plant a wet, scratchy kiss on his cheek. “Lulu!” 

“Only Michael gets to call me that, Metatron, please refrain from calling me that,” Lucifer made a face as he pried his cousin off of him. He looked and saw how Sam’s eyes darkened in possessiveness and unhappiness. He also saw Nichole’s raised eyebrow as she peered over at Chuck’s typewriter. 

“How are you, bigshot lawyer you!” Metatron acted as if he hadn’t heard Lucifer. 

“I’m doing well, Metatron,” Lucifer smiled politely. “How is the latest novel coming?” 

“Oh, going  _ so  _ well, I should be done with the final ten thousand words in the next few days,” Metatron hummed, taking a sip of his drink. Lucifer was fairly certain it had alcohol in it. “My editor thinks it’ll be a big hit.” 

“Great news,” Lucifer said with a false smile of encouragement. 

Sam pressed up behind him, and Lucifer reflexively threw his elbow back into the Dom. “Sam!” 

“Sorry, Lucifer,” Sam said apologetically. 

“And who is  _ this  _ tall drink of water?” Metatron asked. 

“Sam Winchester, attorney at Alighieri and Sons,” Sam introduced himself, reaching around Lucifer to shake Metatron’s hand. “I work under Lucifer.” 

“Oooohhh,” Metatron grinned. “Are you taking him as your Dominant?” 

“Maybe,” Lucifer side stepped. 

“It’s Lucifer’s decision,” Sam said calmly, rubbing Lucifer’s shoulder discreetly. “I would be more than happy to take him as a Submissive, but it’s his decision.” 

Lucifer smiled and leaned into Sam. 

“That’d cause quite the HR scandal, wouldn’t it?” Metatron asked, eyes lighting up. 

“Not really,” Lucifer smirked, “Not when Raphael is technically in charge of HR and Michael’s in charge of the firm. People will talk, but that’s what people do.” 

Metatron nodded and smiled happily. “He looks like a nice man, Lucifer.” 

Nichole chose that moment to wander up to Lucifer and rested her head on his shoulder. “Mr. Alighieri, reminder that tomorrow there’s a meeting at four o’clock,” she murmured. 

“Of course, thank you Miss Sterling,” Lucifer chuckled. 

“And who are  _ you, _ lovely lady?” Metatron asked. 

“Nichole Sterling,” she introduced herself, shaking his hand. “Paralegal at Alighieri and Sons and an author myself.” 

“Oh, really?” Metatron asked. “What have you written?” 

Nichole took a sip from what appeared to be a mimosa. “I started off as a self-publisher on Amazon,” she explained. “It helped me get through my degree program. I’ve been with small time publishers, but I’ve just received a deal with Random House, and I have one that I co-authored with Drea MacLeod as well with Random House.” 

“Nice! Very nice,” Metatron enthused. “What kind of stories do you write?” 

Lucifer was curious about this himself, and listened in. 

“Little bit of everything, especially when I was starting out,” Nichole explained. “I like taking already established ideas and altering them and going ‘but what if I did this?’ It makes people think.” 

Metatron nodded. Chuck by now had wandered over to enjoy the literary discussion, while Lucifer thanked every deity he could think of that the attention was no longer on him and Sam. 

“What’s your solo project on?” Chuck asked. 

Nichole held up a slender finger as she drank. “Manuscript I just sent in to my editor is a novel about a world in which the hierarchy was flipped- Submissives were at the top, Dominants at the bottom. My MC is a Switch who feels out of place because she’s the middle man out, and she’s a bit of an odd one-- she wants a Submissive as her partner, and she has an idea of who she wants, but because of social strata she feels she’s out of her league. So she does everything she can to prove that she could be a primarily Dominant figure in this woman’s life.” 

“A love story, then,” Metatron seemed to be dismissive. Chuck, however, looked intrigued. 

“More of a story on how Switches feel out of place in society, and how that problem wouldn’t go away if Submissives were the alphas of society,” the patriarch said. 

Nichole nodded. “We don’t really see Switches as main characters in novels or in TV shows,” she said, “And I want to change that.” 

Sam and Lucifer wandered over to the buffet table when Lucifer felt cold, feminine hands on his bicep and he looked over to see his aunt Naomi gazing at him intently. 

“You finally got yourself a Dominant, boy,” she said approvingly. 

“Aunt Naomi,” Lucifer said civilly, picking her fingers off of him and throwing them down. “I remain unencumbered by such notions.”

Naomi sniffed. “I see he has yet to take you properly in hand, Lucifer. Why Charles never sent you away for training I will never know.” 

“Perhaps because Lucifer’s not a disobedient puppy, ma’am,” Sam said calmly. “Lucifer is his own person, and can make his own decisions. He knows the consequences of his actions-- or the rewards. He doesn’t need training. He’s a human being.” 

Naomi gave a polite, grim smile to Sam. “I can see he has you sub-whipped to a ridiculous degree,” she said thinly. 

“Like that is any true shame,” Sam smiled. “Lucifer and I are quite happy with our arrangement.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Are you done insulting me and other Submissives now? Because I’m hungry, and your asinine conversation and inane beliefs are preventing me from acquiring food.” 

“You allow him to speak without being addressed.” Naomi sighed. “Very well.” 

“Nothing is final about Sam’s and my relationship,” Lucifer said firmly. “And even if they were, I’d still speak for myself. Good day, Aunt Naomi.” With that, he pushed by her and made his way to the table of food, smiling at Sam.

“Must everyone comment on the fact I’m in your company?” Sam asked in a low voice, watching Lucifer load up on mac and cheese. 

“Most of them, yes,” Lucifer murmured. “Father didn’t because he knows I’ll punch him in the face, anyone at the firm won’t because they already know.” He smiled at Gabriel, who nodded and winked and he fist pumped, much to Sam’s bewilderment. “Chances are, if they’re a Dominant, they’re probably going to comment on it.  _ Especially  _ the old hags like Naomi.” 

Gabriel snorted. “She’s been telling Father for  _ years  _ that Lucifer needs to be trained as a ‘proper’ Submissive,” he said. “She’s very old fashioned and seems to always have a stick up her ass.” 

Lucifer chuckled lowly. “That’s putting it mildly,” he said. “Oh, keep an eye on Zachariah for me, please? He’s taken a liking to Nichole.” 

Gabriel nodded. “She’s a sweet thing, and she’s helped you and Sam and Mikey out a lot,” he said, “Only fair you find her someone.” 

Lucifer grinned. “Yup. It’s time our security guard of a cousin gets hooked up.” 

Gabriel laughed as he slid a piece of chocolate silk pie onto Lucifer’s plate, already anticipating his older brother’s choice. “There you go,” he said. 

“Thanks. Where’s Raphael?” 

“Home. Daniel’s down with a fever and Julian’s being a mother hen,” Gabriel smiled. “They send their regards, however.” 

Lucifer nodded and noticed Gadreel making his way over to the dessert table. “Lucifer!”

“Gad!” Lucifer set his plate down to hug his broad cousin, squeezing the Switch close. “How’s business?” 

“Booming, as usual, it’s amazing what people will want for their security systems,” Gadreel smiled. “And what they’ll pay for it.” 

Lucifer beamed. “Knew you’d be fine, coz. This is Sam Winchester. He works under me at Alighieri and Sons.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Sam said, shaking his hand and smiling. 

“Gadreel Penikett,” Gadreel introduced himself with a smile of his own. “Pleased to meet you, Sam. I’m glad Lucifer didn’t scare you away, like he does with most of his lawyers.” 

Sam laughed. “Lucifer’s just grumpy at the firm,” he said. “Just make sure he’s well fed and he’s happy.” 

Lucifer considered whether or not he should be offended. Deciding that Sam meant it in good spirits, he dug into his plate. 

“Hey, um, Luce? There’s someone new here and she’s. . .” Gadreel scraped his foot across the ground. 

“Pretty?” Lucifer prompted around a mouthful of mac and cheese. 

“ _ Gorgeous. _ ” The tips of his ears turned pink. 

“Do you want me to introduce the two of you?” Lucifer asked slyly, winking at Sam, who was biting into his pulled pork sandwich with an amused look. 

“Sure,” Gadreel said. 

Lucifer set his food down and started leading Gadreel over to where Nichole was still engaged in literary discussions with Metatron and Chuck. He turned to greet a distant cousin and ask her how her kids were doing briefly, not seeing Nichole get up with a mostly empty glass and start making her way towards the buffet table, eyes on her phone. Gadreel was talking to Cain about a new security technique. 

Neither saw the other coming. 

Lucifer turned at the sound of an  _ oof! _ and a grunt coming from his cousin before turning away and smirking at the sight of Gadreel’s black button-down a bit wet from Nichole’s leftover mimosa and Nichole gaping like a fish up at Gadreel. The expression on Gadreel’s face was similar. 

They both started talking at the same time. 

“Oh my God, I’m  _ so- _ ”

“No, don’t worry about it!”

“Sorry, I really should stop-”

“It’s okay, I should be taking this off-”

“Looking at my phone while I’m walking but-”

“It’s no big deal, just a little orange juice-”

“My editor just messaged me and it’s-”

Lucifer stepped in, holding his hand over their mouths at that point. “Gadreel, Nichole. She’s a paralegal at the firm and a published author. Nichole, Gadreel. He’s a former MMA fighter and now heads his own security company.” Lucifer smiled. 

“Oh, where are my manners?” Nichole asked herself irritably as she switched her now empty glass and phone from her right hand to her left hand to shake Gadreel’s. “Pleased to meet you, even if I just got your shirt wet.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Gadreel assured her, shaking her hand before raising it to his lips. The blush that Nichole took on made Lucifer grin. 

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you kids any longer, I’ve got food to eat and you seem like you’ll get along well,” he said, clapping them both on the shoulder before heading off, whistling “Matchmaker.” 

Sam was grinning as Lucifer sat down. “Did you plan the whole running into them thing?” he asked. 

“I didn’t, in all honesty,” Lucifer admitted, tugging his plate closer to him and beginning to eat again. “But that was adorable.” 

“They’ll be married by end of summer,” Sam predicted. 

“Probably end of year.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

Lucifer held up a finger so he could swallow. “One, they’re both Switches. They’ll need time to figure out the best dynamic. Two, they both lead very busy lives, although I hope they do date night often. Three, it’s the head of a security agency and a paralegal who is also an author. Contracts, Sam.” 

Sam chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Nichole does love her contracts.”  

“Exactly,” Lucifer nodded. “And so does Gad.”

They both sneaked a glance over at the two they were talking about. They were sitting cozily near each other at a table, talking and laughing. 

“Mission: Accomplished,” Lucifer said smugly, surveying the rest of the cookout. “I just hope Zachariah sees how  _ disinterested  _ Nichole is in him.” 

“Agreed,” Sam said. “I wasn’t a fan of how he was eyeing her up.” 

“Neither was I,” Lucifer agreed, “but at least now if he tries anything, Gadreel can defend her.” 

“She’ll probably end up defending herself and he’s going to be head over heels for her,” Sam chuckled

Lucifer considered this and nodded. “We should be thankful that she’s not wearing heels today,” he said, “although the height difference between her and Gad is adorable.”

Chuck and Michael joined their table, and the other two dove into intellectual conversations about law, interspersed with the latest family gossip. 

“I see Nichole and Gadreel getting along like a house on fire,” Chuck said, glancing at the two of them. 

Lucifer and Sam turned to look at the direction that Chuck and Michael were looking. Some of the tables in the spacious yard had been removed for dancing, with Gabriel and Balthazar being the DJs, and Nichole and Gadreel were dancing as if they had been together for years.

Lucifer smirked. “Aren’t I good?” he said proudly. 

“You really are a matchmaker,” Chuck smiled. 

Lucifer shrugged. “I figured I’d never get a match,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean the rest of my family can’t.” 

“Who all have you matched up?” Sam asked. 

“Umm. . .” Lucifer hummed around a deviled egg in thought. “Raphael, Balthazar with two of his partners, Castiel, Gadreel, my cousin Nick, Uriel, and someone else that I can’t remember.” 

“You came up with the pairings for that many people?” Sam was impressed. 

“Like I said,” Lucifer shrugged, “Just because I won’t find a match, doesn’t mean the rest of my family’s got to be matchless.” 

A commotion was breaking out and Sam turned to the other side to see Gadreel making his way towards Nichole and Zachariah, the older man clearly attempting to grope her.

“Oh God,” Chuck groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“I believe that’s grounds for banning him from future events,” Michael said in a low tone. “Which I will be greatful for; Zachariah is too much of a suck up for my palate.” 

“I thought you could tolerate anyone,” Lucifer teased softly. 

“I don’t tolerate Aunt Naomi,” Michael growled. 

“No one tolerates my sister,” Chuck sighed. 

The four watched as Zachariah kept making poor excuses to grope the younger woman, until Nichole finally had had enough. She grabbed a seeking hand and twisted it around before kneeing him in the stomach and elbowing him in the face before releasing him. 

Zachariah whined and made pitiful noises while various members of the Alighieri family congratulated Nichole on properly taking care of herself. 

Gadreel finally got to her and set the can of beer and the mimosa he had fetched for them down on a side table before grabbing her arm and pulling her into him for a kiss that took the normally calm paralegal by surprise. It didn’t take her long for her to melt into the kiss, however.

The quartet smirked at each other as they turned back to each other, laughing at the whooping and the catcalling that their family was doing to Gadreel and Nichole. 

“Beautiful,” Chuck murmured. 

“We know Gad likes a woman who can take care of herself,” Lucifer said. “I knew she’s be perfect for Gadreel when Alastair backhanded her across the face and she barely batted an eye.” 

“They’ll be married by end of October,” Michael chuckled. 

“Oh, definitely,” Chuck agreed before groaning as Naomi made her hawk-like way over to her brother. “Brace yourselves, we’re about to get an earful.”

“Charles!” Naomi came over between Michael and Chuck, slamming her hands down on the table. “What in the name of Heaven did I just see?”

“A woman defending herself from sexual assault?” Lucifer asked blandly.

“Shut up, Lucifer,” Naomi snapped. “It’s your fault anyways.” 

“My fault? How is it  _ my  _ fault?” Lucifer asked incredulously.

“You come here, flaunting the fact that you’re not owned, backtalk to Dominants, speak to Dominants without permission, and you brought another feisty Submissive with you, one who is violent,” Naomi spat. 

“Aunt Naomi,” Michael said thinly, Lucifer bristling in anger, “Let me get a few things straight for you, okay? Lucifer’s not property, he’s human. He’s not just one of your pretty things you can buy at an antique store. You don’t ‘own’ Submissives. You may claim them, yes, but that’s a different idea. Lucifer has an issue controlling his mouth and his words. Always have, always will. I suspect that if he had presented as Dominant this would be worse. He was born sassy, deal with it. Lastly, Miss Sterling, if you would bother to pay attention, is a Switch. There is neither a collar or a crop on her. She’s the same presentation as Gadreel. Now, yes, she got violent, but Zachariah was groping her and it was apparent she was asking him to stop and he didn’t. She was well within her rights to defend herself, especially since Gadreel had his hands full.”

“I demand both the girl and the boy be punished,” Naomi announced. 

“For what?” Sam asked calmly. “Being human? Defending themselves from sexual assault? Messing up the macarena?” 

“The girl for being violent, and the boy for being a horrible Submissive.” She looked at Chuck. “The boy can be punished by his Dominant, but I want to punish the girl.” 

Chuck sighed. “Naomi, you recognize you’re trying to argue an archaic set of ideals against a set of four modern lawyers, right?” 

“I don’t care! Things such as a Submissive’s place should not change!” Naomi insisted. 

Michael looked at his father before standing and spinning Naomi around. “Hate speech towards a member of the family that was born Submissive is highly frowned upon in the Alighieri family, Naomi. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. ‘The boy’ as you insist on calling him is named Lucifer, you can use his name it’s not poison. Sam and him are not a couple, and if they are, they certainly wouldn’t tell  _ you. _ ‘The girl’ also has a name, her name is Nichole Sterling. She is a Switch who has helped the Alighieri family more than you will ever contribute to this family, and she doesn’t even bare the name Alighieri. She’s a fantastic paralegal and knows how to defend herself from unwanted advances,  _ especially  _ when it’s quite obvious that she has designs on another person. You are no longer relevant. Take Zachariah and get out. Don’t come back until you’ve learned the meaning of acceptance and love.”

“Charles! Have your  _ brute  _ of a son take his hands off me!” Naomi demanded. “No wonder he hasn’t found a Submissive, who could love him with his abrasive personality?!” 

Chuck sighed. “Please do not make me interrupt Gadreel getting acquainted with his new paramour to have him throw you out,” he said in a tired voice. “Michael has chosen to not ever get married or contract a Submissive because he doesn’t understand romantic feelings, nor does he have them. He is perfectly content with that, as am I. I assure you, it’s not because of his ‘abrasive’ personality. And if I ever hear you call him a brute again, or refer to Lucifer as ‘boy’ again, I will leave you nothing more than a penny when I die. Now leave, or I’ll get Gadreel and Cain to throw you out. And like Michael said, take Zachariah with you.” 

Naomi huffed, jerking her arms out of Michael’s grip before storming off, calling Zachariah to her like he was a disobedient dog. 

The quartet at the table all breathed a sigh of relief and looked over at Gadreel and Nichole. They were now sharing a lawn chair, Nichole curled up on Gadreel’s lap. They were both looking at their phones, but with contented smiles. As they watched, Gadreel looked up from his phone and leaned in to kiss Nichole’s cheek. 

“How disgustingly domestic,” Michael observed. 

Lucifer snorted. 

“No, look at them. They’re gross. They’re gonna be that power couple with a mansion that has a white picket fence and 2.5 children and she’s going to have avocado toast every morning for breakfast and be head of the PTA while he’s the football coach for the high school. It’s sick.” Michael quite honestly looked like he was going to puke. “How do people  _ do  _ romance and domestic shit?”

Sam scooted closer to Lucifer, offering the Submissive a shoulder to rest on. “Knowing that you’re going to wake up every morning to the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with and thinking ‘damn, I love them’,” he said. “Knowing they’re going to be there for you, no matter what. Loving them for all their little quirks and idiosyncrasies and compromise with them on that. Doing the simplest things or chores and being happy because you’re doing them for that special someone or with them.”

Lucifer smiled, leaning his head on the proffered shoulder. “And cuddles,” he said happily.

Chuck laughed. “None of my children have been as affectionate as Lucifer, with maybe Gabriel as the runner up,” he said happily. “He was always wanting a hug or a cuddle, no matter what.” 

Michael nodded, smiling. “Sweetest little brother with a mischievous mind.” 

Lucifer, maturely, stuck his tongue out at his father and older brother, causing the three Dominants to laugh. 

The gathering lasted well into the night, and by the time Lucifer and Sam were ready to go, Nichole and Gadreel had already left together and had given their goodbyes. Gadreel had an arm wrapped around her waist and promised Lucifer she’d be in the office at 8 AM Monday morning. Smirking, Lucifer whistled “Matchmaker” as they walked away. 

“Take care of yourself, Lucifer,” Chuck said as Sam and Lucifer began saying goodbye to everyone. 

“Will do, Dad,” Lucifer said, hugging his father. “I try my best.”

“I know.” Chuck patted Lucifer’s back before the two parted so Lucifer could say goodbye to everyone else. 

The rounds finished, they walked back to Lucifer’s car and Lucifer got into the driver’s seat. “Well, that was eventful,” he commented as he shifted the car into reverse and backed out skillfully.

“It was,” Sam agreed, smiling. “I had fun. Except for Naomi and Zachariah, everyone was really chill.” 

“I think that happens when about ninety percent of us are lawyers,” Lucifer admitted. “You have to admit that Nichole and Gadreel were adorable.” 

“They were,” Sam agreed. “They fit together really well, it seems.” 

Lucifer nodded. 

They drove in silence for a bit before Sam spoke. “Do you jerk off?” 

Lucifer barely managed to avoid swerving. “Well  _ that  _ question came out of nowhere,” he said.

“Sorry,” Sam laughed. “It’s just. . . well.”

“Yeah, I get you,” Lucifer said, knowing Sam was wondering if they should go to the next step. “Yeah. Not as often as I would like, but I do. Don’t like what I get off to.” 

“What gets you going?” Sam asked softly. 

Lucifer kept his eyes firmly trained on the road, cheeks pinking in the streetlights. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Sam get handsy

Lucifer kept up his blushing until they reached his apartment complex, and Sam didn’t say anything more, just had a sort of secretive smirk on his face as they walked up to the landing that Lucifer lived on and waited until Lucifer unlocked the door. 

“Care to join me for a nightcap?” Lucifer asked, giving a smile up at Sam. 

“Sure,” Sam agreed as the door opened. He entered and Lucifer followed, turning to close the door and lock it. When Lucifer turned around, Sam was there, crowding him into the door. 

“Do you have  _ any  _ idea how much I wanted to fucking bite your neck to show off my claim to your relatives who asked? Just so you didn’t have to hear that fucking nonsense?” Sam growled. 

Between the growl and what Sam was saying, Lucifer wasn’t sure if he should blush or get hard. His body decided for him and went with both. 

Sam smirked. “You’re so pretty when you blush,” he murmured, leaning in to place a soft kiss on Lucifer’s lips. “So tell me, Lucifer, what do you think about when you take yourself in hand and stroke yourself to completion?” 

Lucifer turned a darker pink and shook his head. 

“What?” Sam’s voice was light and playful. “Embarrassed?” 

Lucifer nodded, the blush on his face now red. 

“What if I turned it into a game?” Sam asked, managing to wedge a knee in between Lucifer’s legs, pressing forward. Once again, Lucifer felt the massive erection behind the layers of cloth he was wearing. “I’ll ask yes or no questions, and all you gotta do is answer them.” 

“Aren’t we a bit old to be playing Twenty Questions?” Lucifer asked, groaning as Sam surrounded him. 

“If it gets you to confess, then I don’t care.” Sam’s breath was ghosting over his lips and Lucifer placed his hands firmly on Sam’s shoulders. “Do you like to masturbate?” 

“Very much,” Lucifer said, nipping at Sam’s lips. 

“Do you ever finger yourself?” Sam asked, ducking his head down to nip and kiss along Lucifer’s collared throat.

“No.” Lucifer’s breath hitched in his throat. He’s never thought about his neck being an erogenous zone, but now, he definitely was, and was definitely rutting against Sam’s leg. 

“Calm down,” Sam soothed, stilling Lucifer’s seeking hips. “I’m not through.” 

Lucifer growled and tried to move against Sam’s hands, seeking friction and not finding it. 

“Do you like the idea of being pinned?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer groaned and didn’t answer.

“Have you ever thought about being pinned?” Sam continued, smirking as he saw Lucifer clam up. “It’s okay if you have, you know.” 

Lucifer gave a very shy, very hesitant nod. “Yeah,” he murmured. 

“Like how I’m pinning you now?” Sam pressed more into Lucifer, teeth scraping along his collarbone, “Or more how I had you pinned the night I stayed over?” 

Lucifer whined, needing to rut. Screw Sam and his questions, he had a nice solid thigh beneath him and by hell or high water he was going to rut against it. 

“Should I let you go?” Sam teased.

“No!” The word blurted out of him and he blushed to the roots of his hair, ducking his face down. 

“Well you’re going to have to answer a few more questions, aren’t you?” Sam asked, nipping along Lucifer’s neck.

“Sam, please,” Lucifer grumbled. 

“Please what?” Sam mocked playfully. “Use your words, and I’ll give it to you when you finish answering me.”

“Please, let me rut,” Lucifer said. “Just want to rut.” 

“Oh, I bet you do,” Sam murmured soothingly, “And you can, once I got what I want to know. I bet you think about being pinned like we were that night, being desperate for release, shoving at me and begging for me to do anything to help alleviate this. Don’t you?” 

Lucifer threw his head back in sexual frustration, rocking his hips down firmly onto Sam’s thigh. 

“Answer me, Lucifer,” Sam hummed. “Or I’ll unpin you here and won’t touch you for the rest of the night unless you answer me.” 

“Saaam,” Lucifer whined. 

“Let’s move on,” Sam chuckled softly. “What about someone else touching you like you do to yourself? Wrapping a hand around your length and stroking it until you cum. I bet you’re gorgeous when you cum. I bet your eyes go big and wide and you put your whole body into it.”

“Yes!” Lucifer’s voice was embarrassingly high pitched and he worked to correct it. “Yes, yes I have, Sam  _ please. _ ”

“What about being fucked?” Sam asked softly. “You’d look so good riding me, asserting your dominance while chasing that high.” 

“Yes, and underneath someone,” Lucifer whispered. 

“Good, see, not too hard,” Sam encouraged. “You look like you got something juicy to tell me. You can tell me.” 

Lucifer groaned, turning redder and squirming. “I. . . I sometimes edge myself,” he admitted. 

Sam swore. “That’s fuckin’ hot.” 

“Self control. Like seeing how many times I hit the edge without going over it,” Lucifer whined. 

“Is it explosive once you allow yourself release?” Sam asked, kissing his way back up Lucifer’s neck and nipping his earlobe. 

“Oh God yes,” Lucifer moaned. “Sam, please, I wanna. . .” 

“I know, baby, you’re doing such a good job,” Sam soothed, slowly easing his hand down between them and cupping Lucifer’s crotch. Lucifer whimpered and rocked his hips down. “Do you want me to edge you right now? Deny you release over and over again?” 

“No, Sam, please, I just wanna cum.” Somehow, without that much friction or movement, Lucifer was teetering over the precipice. “Fuck, Sam, just let me rut against you, clinging to you, I need it.” 

“Then cum,” Sam purred, his teeth scraping against his jaw. 

Lucifer shook his head, clinging to Sam hard. Tilting his head to the side, he met Sam’s lips in a furious kiss, trying to show as little weakness as possible, still trying to assert himself as a Dominant male. 

Sam gave it back as good as he got, removing his hand to rest it against the curve of Lucifer’s hip and digging his fingers into the flesh. Teeth gnashed against lips and tongues, Lucifer’s hands winding up to knot themselves in Sam’s long hair as he was able to rut at long last, Sam matching him thrust for thrust. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Sam breathed against Lucifer’s lips. “Cum for me, angel. Make a mess of yourself, cum in your shorts like you’re a teenager.” 

Lucifer gave a breathless laugh, nipping and sucking at Sam’s lower lip. “You first,” he whispered. 

Sam chuckled and reached inside both Lucifer’s shorts and boxers to wrap his broad hand around Lucifer’s hardened length. Lucifer nearly came from the fact that while he was by no means small, Sam’s hand covered his length almost perfectly. “No, you,” the Dominant commanded. 

Lucifer’s head lolled back as he groaned, digging his nails into Sam’s biceps. He was cumming, he was cumming hard, and he opened his mouth to moan, only to whine and whimper Sam’s name as he writhed in his hold.

Sam must’ve came after him, because he groaned loudly and his hips jerked into Lucifer’s as the Submissive went pliant in Sam’s arms, breathing heavily. 

Once Sam finished, he looked at Lucifer and smiled. “Feeling good?” he asked softly. 

Lucifer nodded. “I’d like to be clean before bed, though,” he muttered. 

Sam laughed. “I’ll get a damp washcloth from the bathroom, get ready for bed,” he said, kissing Lucifer’s bruised lips. 

Lucifer hummed idly, kissing Sam back lightly. “Sounds good to me,” he said. “Can you also get a couple glasses of water?” 

“Sure,” Sam said. “Ice or no ice in yours?”

“No ice, please,” Lucifer said, making his way to the bedroom after slipping out of Sam’s arms. Walking in, he shed his shirt, shorts, and boxers and threw them in the hamper before he climbed into bed, flopping on his back. 

Sam came back in, carrying two cups of water and a washcloth. He chuckled as Lucifer simply made happy noises as he was cleaned off. “Like the aftercare part?” he asked softly. 

Lucifer slowly opened his eyes and nodded. “Mhm. Soothing,” he murmured. 

“I suppose it can be.” Sam took his own pants and boxers off and Lucifer scrambled to the other side of the bed. “What?”

“How the. . How the. . .” Lucifer was sputtering at Sam’s still half-hard dick. 

“Oh.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Umm, well, I don’t have a refractory period. Not really.” 

Lucifer whimpered. “Oh fuck.” 

Sam smiled. “That’ll work nicely with the fact that you like being edged, won’t it? Me cumming in you and on you over and over again while you beg for release?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Lucifer grumbled as he moved to rest in Sam’s arms. 

The younger lawyer chuckled. “Maybe. We’ll see.” 

Lucifer sighed and looked up at Sam. “Sam?” 

“Mm?”

“I. . . I really liked what we did,” he admitted, blushing.

Sam smiled. “I did too. I like how you didn’t back down, even though you were desperate.” 

Lucifer smiled and closed his eyes as he rested his head on Sam’s chest. 

_ Yeah. I could definitely get used to this.  _

 

Lucifer woke up the next morning and groaned happily, nuzzling into Sam briefly, content to be cuddling someone who was still sleeping for a little bit before deciding to roll out of bed for his daily shower. Making sure he didn’t wake Sam up, he made his way over to the bathroom and turned the water on. 

He cracked his neck loudly as he stepped underneath the hot spray, tilting his head back to catch the spray as it rained down on him. 

“Room for one more?” 

Lucifer turned to see Sam leaning against the door frame of the bathroom in his naked glory, smirking. Lucifer smirked back and shrugged. “Sure. Shower’s big enough for two.” 

Sam sauntered over and leaned in to kiss Lucifer on the lips. “Good morning.” 

“Morning. You could’ve slept longer,” Lucifer said, returning the kiss as Sam stepped into the tub. 

“And miss the chance to see you dripping wet and naked?” Sam teased, tugging Lucifer closer to him. 

Lucifer flushed and looked up at Sam. “You’re not a bad image like that yourself,” he replied, tilting his face up for another kiss. His hands roamed over miles of tanned skin. 

Sam leaned in and kissed him, slow and easy. All the urgency that was there from last night, when he had the older man pinned to the wall was gone. 

They pressed together, cock against hard cock, the spray hitting them both and coating them in warm water. Lucifer reached over to the shelf and grabbed a bottle of conditioner, an idea slithering into his head. Sam would never see it coming, and it’d help them with the morning wood that they were both sporting. 

“What?” Sam asked in amusement as Lucifer pumped some into his hand, the scent of tea tree oil hitting the air. “Are you doing conditioner before shampoo?” 

“No,” Lucifer said simply, smiling up at him as he wrapped a hand around both of their cocks. Sam groaned. “I’m doing this.” 

It was Lucifer’s turn to kiss, nip, and scrape his teeth along Sam’s neck and jawline, his hand pumping them steadily as he crowded the Dominant back against the shower, the spray pounding on his back in a staccato rhythm. He growled as Sam’s large hands ran down his back and grabbed at Lucifer’s ass, kneading it and eliciting a high pitched keen from the Submissive. 

“ _ I’m  _ in charge right now,” Lucifer groaned, hips jerking into his hand. Precum joined the mess of conditioner and water. He bit down on Sam’s pulse point underneath his ear and sucked hard. 

Sam moaned, still squeezing Lucifer’s taut ass. “Then prove it,” he challenged. 

Lucifer snarled and stopped stroking them. Using his slippery hands, he pried Sam’s own off his rear. He crossed the wrists and pinned them above Sam’s head with one hand, standing slightly on tiptoe in order to gaze into ever changing eyes. 

Sam swallowed and tilted his head to the side for a sloppy kiss as Lucifer began stroking them again, hard and quick and messy.  

There was a charged energy between the two of them, with the roles reversed, and it was just as electrifying as the night before. 

It wasn’t long, then, until Sam came with a loud shout, staining their stomachs and Lucifer’s hand, his length pulsing hot and heavy next to Lucifer’s. Lucifer came a few moments later, accompanied by a low groan that issued from somewhere deep inside his chest as he contributed to the mess that his hand had created. 

Slumped against the wall, the water slightly cooler as they exchanged slow, lazy kisses, Lucifer chuckled. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said dominance was a turn on,” he teased lightly. 

Sam chuckled, running his hands up and down Lucifer’s back, working out the tense muscles. “It really is.”

“Was it. . .” Lucifer trailed off with a groan as Sam massaged out a knot above his right asscheek.

“It was good, angel,” Sam assured him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “So good.” 

Lucifer made a happy, content noise. “Good. Let’s get washed up so we can drink coffee.” 

Sam chuckled softly. “As long as you wash my back,” he bargained. 

“I’ll wash yours if you wash mine,” Lucifer smiled. “And that’s not an excuse to shamelessly grope my ass.” 

Sam’s happy laughter echoed off the walls of the shower. 

 

Their shower finished, they dried off and Sam borrowed a shirt and sweats from Lucifer. Both were a little tight and short on the taller Dominant, but neither cared as Lucifer prepared them breakfast. Sausage omelettes and toast, plus a full pot of coffee. 

Breakfast was mostly eaten in silence, but with occasional talks about a case or two that Lucifer was now working on. The main one was the Daemon case, which the two lawyers knew Nichole was working tirelessly on finding precedents for and double checking over the police reports to see if they had missed something. 

During a lull, Lucifer’s phone pinged, and he opened it while sipping his coffee. 

“Text from Gadreel,” Lucifer chuckled, reading it over. 

“Oh?” Sam asked around a mouthful of toast. “What does it say?” 

“‘Thanks, coz, for introducing me to Nichole. Hopefully this goes somewhere’,” Lucifer read. 

“I take it their night went just about as well as ours,” Sam chuckled, leaning over and impulsively kissing Lucifer’s cheek. 

Lucifer flushed, but nodded. “Yeah. Sounds like it.” 

“And potentially their morning,” Sam continued. “I haven’t been dominated like that since Brady.” 

“Really? You liked it?” Lucifer asked, surprised. 

“I think cumming all over the shower is a solid indication that I more than liked it,” Sam said dryly. “Yeah, Lucifer, I liked it. And I think soon, I’d like a repeat.” 

Lucifer turned bright red. “Oh. . . okay,” he said, swallowing. 

Sam smiled before looking at the time. “I told Dean and Benny I’d go to lunch with them,” he said, “So I’ll see you in the office bright and early Monday morning to go over the Daemon case.” 

“Right,” Lucifer agreed, looking up at Sam. “Thank you.” 

Sam smiled, knowing what Lucifer was thanking him for. “Of course. May I kiss you again?” 

Lucifer smiled back. “Of course.” 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes his time to woo Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry
> 
> This chapter is basically a rom-com. 
> 
> *hangs head*

Monday dawned bright and ugly as Lucifer drove into his parking space by Alighieri and Sons. Popping a chocolate mint into his mouth, he chewed it thoughtfully as he grabbed his briefcase and made sure his collar was concealed before getting out of his car and making his way inside. 

Meg was standing by the door, with his cup of coffee, and he took it with a quiet thank you and sipped it. 

“Miss Daemon will be here at eleven,” Meg said, looking down at her phone as they walked to his office. “Miss Sterling will be in your office at ten to go over the precedents with you and she has volunteered to be your note taker for the duration of your meeting with Miss Daemon. Mr. Winchester will be in at ten thirty.” 

“What does my afternoon look like?” Lucifer asked, giving a nod to Raphael as they passed. 

“It’s clear,” Meg confirmed. 

“Alright, thank you, Meg,” he said as they approached her desk and his office. There was a large bouquet of red, white, and pink roses in a simple glass vase on her desk. 

“Aww, looks like Castiel bought you flowers,” Lucifer cooed playfully. “How sweet.”

“They’re not for me,” Meg said, looking at the note that came with it. “They’re for you, boss man.” 

“What?” Lucifer asked. “Let me see.” 

Meg handed him the simple card and his eyes scanned over the small, neat writing that he knew almost as well as his own. 

_ Lucifer-  _

_ Hope these cheer up the case of the Mondays you have.  _

_ -S.  _

“You got an admirer, boss?” Meg asked, almost squinting suspiciously. 

Lucifer smiled and pocketed the note before picking up the vase. “Send Miss Sterling into my office when she’s here,” he said, ignoring Meg’s question. 

“Sure thing, Luce.” 

 

Nichole came in at 9:45, on her phone texting as she masterfully made her way to the chair she normally occupied. 

“Good to see you too, Nichole,” Lucifer greeted blandly. 

“Hi,” she said. 

“Publisher? Editor? Drea?” Lucifer asked. 

“Nah, Gad,” she said absently. “I’m telling him I’m with you and I actually need to work now.” 

“You’re texting Gadreel?” Lucifer teased. “Sounds like I finally made a decent match for Gad.” 

Nichole calmly raised her other hand, her middle finger raised. 

“You wish,” he teased. 

“I’m not the one who got flowers this morning,” Nichole said, putting down her phone and looking directly at Lucifer, her gaze lingering on the roses. “Roses, too.” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “Sam bought me flowers.” 

“Adorable,” Nichole deadpanned. 

“Did you sleep with him?” Lucifer asked. 

“Did you?” Nichole retorted, raising an eyebrow. 

Lucifer grimaced. “Hand jobs,” he confessed. 

Nichole smirked. “I did a home run myself. I’m surprised I can walk in a straight line, much less in heels. Gad’s a fucking _ beast _ .” 

Lucifer laughed. “How many times?” he asked curiously. 

“Don’t know, it was a bit of a blur if I’m honest with you,” Nichole confessed. 

Lucifer nodded. “Just two hand jobs. He got me pinned to the door after we left and then the next morning I cornered him in the shower.” 

“Shower sex wasn’t happenin’ in my flat,” Nichole laughed. “Poor Gad was nearly hitting the ceiling with his head, last thing I need to do is call into work sick ‘cause he gave me a concussion in the shower.” 

Lucifer threw his head back and laughed. “Not even handies or blow jobs?” he teased. 

“Are you kidding me, Alighieri? Handies I could’ve done, but there ain’t no way I could’ve performed a blow job on him in the shower. I like not having water in my eyes.” 

“Point.” 

“Anyways, these are the precedents for the Daemon case that I found to be pertinent, and I’d call into question this part of questioning, I listened to the tapes and the officer doesn’t re-recite the Miranda warning. . .” 

 

Wednesday was when Sam surprised Lucifer again. Nichole was in the office at the time, using Lucifer’s computer to type up the legal documentation he needed while the two of them chatted and his phone buzzed on his desk. 

“Can you see who texted?” Lucifer asked idly, not looking up from the newspaper. 

“Sure thing,” she said, picking up his phone. “Lock code?” 

“Quadruple sixes.”

She snorted as she typed it in. “Email notification, confirming two tickets to see the symphony on Friday night.” 

Lucifer looked up from the paper. “Pardon?” 

“Middle box seats,” she went on. “Funny, the tickets aren’t in your name.” 

“Whose name are they in, then?” Lucifer asked, folding the paper messily. 

“One Mr. Sam Winchester’s,” Nichole grinned. She waved the phone at him. “To the symphony, eh? Almost black tie, wouldn’t you say?” She thought for a moment. “Do you even own a tux?” 

“Yes,” he said shortly. 

Nichole’s phone buzzed then and he snagged it. “Why the hell don’t you have a lock code?” he asked, swiping the screen away. 

“How many times have you seen me without my phone in my hand or on my person?” Nichole pointed out. 

“Photo message from Gadreel,” he announced. “Hmm, I wonder what it is.” 

“I wouldn’t open that message if I were you,” Nichole warned, looking up from her typing to glance at her boss. 

“Why?” Lucifer asked genuinely, looking up as his thumb opened the message. 

“Your funeral,” she said blithely.

He looked down and then back at her immediately, eyes wide. “How the  _ fuck  _ did you manage to convince him to. . . .to. . . to. . .” 

“To send me a dick pic?” Nichole finished for him. “Well, it took a lot of sweet talking, that’s for certain. Not to mention pointing out that I’ve already seen his cock in full technicolor, high definition quality.” 

Lucifer stared at her. 

“What? I’m a woman. I have needs,” Nichole shrugged. 

“Please tell me you haven’t sent him a kitten picture,” Lucifer begged. 

Nichole got up from the chair and walked over to Lucifer, plucking her phone out of his hands. “How do you think I managed to finally convince him to send me a picture?” she asked innocently. 

“I think I’m going to puke,” Lucifer muttered.

“Please don’t do it in your office, I’m not done with that document you asked for, and the bathroom is right there, please flush and use the air freshener when you’re done unloading the contents of your stomach,” Nichole said calmly, putting Lucifer’s phone in his hand before returning to his desk. 

Lucifer looked down at his phone, blinking away the image of his baby cousin’s cock peeping out shyly from underneath a thin sheet and glancing down at the tickets Sam had sent him, checking the time. Symphony started at nine, and it held a couple of Lucifer’s favorite classical pieces. He smiled. 

_ Someone paid attention, _ he thought to himself as he picked up the paper again, the clacking of Nichole typing away at his keyboard echoing softly in the office. He pulled up the email app on his phone and sent a simple one to Sam. 

_ I’ll see you in the lobby of the venue half an hour before the performance.  _

Sam replied just as Nichole was leaving.

_ Sounds good. See you later.  _

 

Lucifer forgot how both comfortable and uncomfortable tuxes were. The cut and lining of the suit was more flattering to his figure and was made out of just slightly more comfortable materials. However, between his bowtie, collar, and shirt, he felt like he was choking. 

He waited for Sam in the lobby, smiling when he saw the Dominant approaching him, wearing a tux that was well fitted and a bow tie. His hair had been slicked back for the event, and he held out an elbow for Lucifer to take. 

The Submissive hesitated. 

“You have a cane with you,” Sam reminded him gently. 

Ah, yes, the cane. Societally, it wasn’t acceptable for a Dominant to bring his crop to an event such as the opening night of the symphony. Instead, canes were used, and Lucifer’s was well crafted: smooth ebony wood with a small silver skull sitting on top where Lucifer rested his hand. He prefered to walk with it hitting the ground, rather than tucked under his arm as Sam was doing. His was a rich chocolate brown, obviously just polished. 

Lucifer smiled and took Sam’s arm. “It’s so nice to have such a nice young man helping me,” he said playfully, stressing the  _ young  _ part of that sentence. 

Sam smirked. “In a couple decades you’ll no doubt be a silver fox,” he murmured. “Any Submissive would be glad to be yours.”

Lucifer caught the hidden meaning behind Sam saying  _ Submissive.  _ He meant Dominant. “Perhaps I’m simply like my older brother and not meant for such frivolity,” he said, smiling as he and Sam handed over their tickets. 

Sam simply smiled indulgently as the usher pointed them in the direction of their seats. 

They sat down, but before they got too comfortable, Sam stood back up. “Do you want anything to drink?” 

“Just water for me,” Lucifer said, resting his cane on his thighs and running his fingers over it soothingly. 

Sam nodded and left. He returned a short time later with two glasses of water and handed Lucifer his. Thanking him, Lucifer took it and gave it a small sip. 

The symphony started then, the sounds of Tchaikovsky’s  _ Romeo and Juliet  _ filling the air. Lucifer shifted himself in his seat and leaned back, content to enjoy the music. 

“Did you ever play anything?” Sam whispered very quietly, obviously enraptured. 

Lucifer nodded. “Piano, violin, voice,” he murmured in a low voice. “You?”

Sam shook his head. “Never had the patience or knack for it. Dean can play a good guitar. Growing up with him playing classic rock on his guitar was. . . an experience.” 

Lucifer gave a silent chuckle, smiling a little bit. 

During the love theme, he felt Sam’s large hand gently rest on his where it was on the shared armrest of the seats of the theatre. He gripped his cane a little, unused to these tender touches. 

Suddenly, Sam was invading his space, lips close to his ear. “May I hold your hand?” he asked quietly. 

Lucifer took a moment to deliberate Sam’s request before giving a slow nod. He didn’t see any harm in it. 

Sam gently turned his hand over and slotted his fingers in between the spaces of Lucifer’s. He gave a soft squeeze and Lucifer turned to look at Sam’s soft eyes, smiling warmly and with an emotion that Lucifer himself could not name. He did, however, feel like leaning in and kissing Sam’s lips chastely, chasing the mineral water away from his lips as the love theme reached the full crescendo for the climax. 

They broke after a few moments, eyes bright and dark at the same time and Lucifer squeezed Sam’s hand. 

 

The rest of the concert went smoothly, the two holding hands and enjoying the music. They broke apart when they rose with the masses to give a standing ovation. Lucifer was smiling broadly, as was Sam, and when they went to leave, Lucifer took Sam’s proffered elbow and used his cane as usual as they walked out. 

The only comment they got was of an older Switch sighing and commenting how it was sweet that Lucifer’s “nephew” was nice enough to go to the symphony with his uncle and help him get around. Out of kindness they didn’t laugh until they were at Lucifer’s car. 

“Did you drive?” Lucifer asked as they stood outside once they got their giggles under control. 

Sam nodded. “But, I’d like to do this again,” he said hopefully. 

Lucifer smiled. “This was nice. I’d do it again,” he said. “Uhm. . . thank you. Thank you very much. This meant a lot to me.” 

Sam smiled softly and gently ran his finger along Lucifer’s bowtie, sending an electric thrill up his spine from where the Dominant’s finger made contact through cloth to the leather collar around the Submissive’s neck. “See you Monday?”

Lucifer swallowed. “Yeah, see you Monday,” he agreed. “Bright and early, we have a meeting with Nichole to go over the Daemon case at ten.” 

“I’ll be there at nine forty-five,” Sam promised. He leaned in and kissed Lucifer’s cheek gently, chastely, before leaving. 

Lucifer stared after him, touching his cheek softly before shaking himself out of his funk and getting in his car and driving home. 

When he fell asleep that night, he imagined that kiss in the theatre again with a smile on his face. 

Lucifer thought Sam would’ve stopped there, but that wasn’t the case. On the Tuesday following the symphony, Sam had bought Lucifer’s lunch. Michael had told him that morning after a quick meeting with their siblings to discuss a new policy. 

“Why did you let him do that?” Lucifer asked softly. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Michael smiled mysteriously. 

Oh, that did it. Michael had taken great delight in teasing his younger brother about his ‘new paramour’, but luckily, Lucifer had the perfect ammunition. “Gadreel’s finally come out of his shell,” Lucifer informed him. 

“With Miss Sterling by his side, I’m not surprised,” Michael said, taking a sip of coffee. 

“He sent her a dick pic,” Lucifer said bluntly. 

Michael choked on his coffee, sputtering and coughing. 

“Don’t die,” Lucifer said blandly. 

“Might have to in order to get that image out of my brain,” Michael coughed, pounding on his chest like a psychotic gorilla. “He did  _ what _ ?”

“Sent her a picture of his penis,” Lucifer said. “Granted it was under a sheet-” 

“You’ve  _ seen  _ it?” Michael sounded scandalized. 

“I wish I hadn’t,”Lucifer admitted grimly. “She did warn me against opening the photo.” 

“What did you think was gonna pop up?” Michael asked. 

“I don’t know-- anything BUT his dick!” Lucifer shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Go eat your tacos, so I can puke,” Michael grumbled. “Our little Gadreel.” 

“Dude, I’m fairly certain Gadreel’s bigger than us,” Lucifer said. 

“ _ Too much fucking information, Lucifer Dantes Alighieri. _ ”

“I DIDN’T MEAN DICK SIZE, MICHAEL NICHOLAS ALIGHIERI!” 

“Your middle name is Nicholas, Mr. Alighieri?” 

They both turned to look at the tiny paralegal whose boyfriend they were just discussing, looking far too innocent for her own good. 

“Yes,” Michael admitted, both of them averting their eyes. 

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” she said, almost sashaying over to Lucifer. “Meg said you’d be here, Lucifer. Here’s that document you needed to discuss with the new clients coming in at three today.” 

“Thank you, Miss Sterling,” Lucifer said, taking the piece of paper from her and looking over it instead of meeting her eyes like he normally would have done. 

“Is something the matter, Messieurs Alighieri?” she asked politely. 

“NO!” they answered in unison far too quickly. 

“You sure, boys? Neither of you seem to be very fascinated with eye contact today. If it was my breasts you were looking at, I’d be flattered but you both seem to be keen on drilling lasers into my shoes.” Nichole kept up her blasé tone. 

They remained silent, brother daring brother to speak first. 

“Enjoy your conversations about penile size,” Nichole said, smiling brightly and turning to leave. 

“ _ My boyfriend’s is bigger, _ ” Lucifer hissed after her. 

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester!” Nichole said brightly as she walked out, holding the door open for Sam. 

Lucifer turned an ugly shade of pink and looked away as Sam walked in. 

“Sam! Hello, thank you for showing up, please show Lucifer to the lunch room so he may ingest fat, juicy tacos,” Michael said in a false, bright voice. He pushed Lucifer upright and shoved him towards the moose body that was Sam. 

Sam caught Lucifer and raised an eyebrow at the stoic oldest sibling of the Alighieri tribe.

“Take me away from that evil monster,” Lucifer grumbled. “And make a note for me to figure out a way to semi humiliate our favorite paralegal.” 

“This about the dick pic?” Sam asked calmly as he escorted Lucifer out.

“How’d you know about that?” Lucifer asked curiously. 

“She told me,” Sam shrugged. “Last week, when you were a vague seasick green color.” 

Lucifer decided he was going to crawl into a hole and die. 

“Let me go get your tacos,” Sam said soothingly, “And we’ll do a working lunch in your office.” 

Lucifer gave a weak smile. “Sounds good.”

Thursday dawned rainy and ill, and Lucifer ran like a bat out of hell from his car into the firm, making grabby hands for his hot coffee. 

“You know you stay drier if you walk,” Meg said as she handed him his coffee and they walked towards their office. 

“I hate the rain,” Lucifer grumbled. “What’s on the agenda for today?” 

“Daemon’s going to be here at two, you have a meeting with your own lawyer concerning the Picasso case at eleven, and Miss Sterling would like to steal your computer again for the legal document you need for the Crowley trial,” Meg recited. 

“Perfect,” Lucifer sighed. 

Rounding the corner, they were both greeted by a large, white unicorn plush with a dark purple mane and that Lucifer was fairly certain is stuffed with clouds and the wishes of innocents. It looked massively fluffy. 

“Looks like your admirer thinks he-- or she-- got themselves a unicorn,” Meg teased her employer as they approached the unicorn. 

Lucifer picked up the card laying in front of one incredibly soft hoof and read it to himself before giving a loud snort of laughter. “It’s for you, Meg,” he told her. 

“You sure, boss man?” she asked curiously. 

“I’m fairly certain my baby brother doesn’t want me to screw him,” he giggled, handing her the card which, written in Castiel’s perfect black calligraphy, read: 

_ Please come fuck me tonight -- Castiel heart _

Meg blushed and yanked the card out of Lucifer’s hand, nearly giving him a papercut. “Go find your own damn unicorn,” she snarked. 

Lucifer gave a cheery whistle and entered his office. 

There was a giant chocolate brown bear sitting in his chair.  It had to be as tall as he was, and Lucifer was not a short man. It wore a cream and walnut brown checkered bow.

Lucifer stopped dead in the doorway, staring.  He half expected it to move, like this was a horror movie and the bear had come for his soul. Why else would the bear be as big as him?

“...Meg?” he called in a squeak.

“Yeah boss?”  she came over.  “Holy…” For once, his secretary was rendered speechless.

“Do you see a card?” he asked. He not only thought it was a bit demonic, but also a bit cute. 

“I… don’t, actually.”

“It’s staring at me,” Lucifer whispered.

“It’s staring at  _ us, _ ” Meg corrected

Lucifer glanced over at her and then back at the bear.  “Security would know who brought him in… right?”

“Yeah.  Unless the person who brought him came before the guards arrived.”

Lucifer gripped his crop firmly and squared his shoulders.  He was a Dominant, he was the boss and he was not scared of a teddy bear, demonic or otherwise.  He crossed the room and rounded his desk, grasping the creature firmly by one large floppy ear.  It was heavier than he anticipated; as it slipped from his fingers a card fluttered from between its paws to the floor.  Lucifer used his crop to pull the card away from the bear’s foot.

“ _ L - an untraditional bear for an untraditional boss.  -S _ ”

Lucifer growled before huffing in amusement. He chuckled to himself and looked at Meg. “It’s alright, I got it. I know who sent it.” 

“Okay,” Meg said, raising a brow. “Your admirer’s insane.” 

Lucifer smiled as he looked at the bear now laying on the floor. 

“Yeah,” he said, “I suppose he is.” 

“Remind me why  _ we’re  _ not carrying the bear out?” Sam asked as they saw Nichole ahead of them, carrying Lucifer’s humongous teddy bear out like a child in a toy store. The bear dwarfed her by nearly a foot, but it was hysterical watching her walk towards the door, unable to see around the bear.

Lucifer nodded towards his phone, where he was taking video. “Because,” he said, “I’m going to send this video to Gadreel with the website you bought it off of. Her birthday is soon.” 

Sam snorted as Nichole tried to get into the revolving door with the teddy bear. “Oh God, from what I met of Gadreel his heart’s going to melt and he’s going to buy her like ten of them.” 

“I know,” Lucifer snickered. “Miss Sterling, the normal door. Not the revolving door. Your name is not Wonder Woman.” 

“It fucking should be, with how much she does,” muttered a passing lawyer. 

Sam snorted again as Nichole stutter ran in heels towards the normal door, trying to use the giant teddy bear to open it. 

Lucifer and Sam held the door open for her and the trio walked to the car, the two men playing traffic cop for the tiny woman carrying the giant teddy bear. 

The area Lucifer parked his car in today wasn’t his normal spot; it was in a more secluded part of the parking lot, which meant Nichole’s muttering of vile epithets in various languages went largely unheard as she tried to shove the teddy bear into the back seat of Lucifer’s car. 

Lucifer sent the completed video and website to Gadreel before pocketing his phone and smiling shyly up at Sam. The past two or three weeks since the family gathering had been some of the most whirlwind in his life, and he knew, even if he rejected Sam, he had gained a lifelong friend. “I, um, thank you. For the bear,” he said, blushing a little bit. 

“Now you’ll always have a cuddle buddy,” Sam smiled warmly. “You’re more than welcome.” 

Lucifer smiled and looked into hazel eyes that seemed to change colors. He felt his heart beat a little faster as his gaze fell to Sam’s lips again. The sounds of Nichole fighting with the bear fell away to the sound of blood pounding in his ears as he leaned forward and kissed Sam firmly, impulsively grabbing the other lawyer by the lapels of his suit jacket and holding him firmly in place. 

Sam reacted immediately, cupping Lucifer’s face and kissing him back just as firmly, keeping his tongue to himself. That suited Lucifer just fine. 

They jerked apart when Nichole’s heel landed on Lucifer’s car horn, setting it off. 

“SON OF A DROOLING MONKEY AND A  _ WHORE! _ ” 

“I’m so remembering that one,” Sam whispered, chuckling as Lucifer’s cheeks turned pink. 

“The kiss or the swear?” Lucifer asked. 

Sam winked. “Both. Mostly the kiss.” He kissed Lucifer’s cheek again. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Sure,” Lucifer said, giving a little kiss of his own. 

Sam smiled and left Lucifer’s embrace all too soon, and Lucifer watched him go.

“Please fuck him.” 

Lucifer turned around to find Nichole curled up in the bear, the bear finally stuffed into the car, smirking. “What? Look, it’s clear he adores you. Even if it’s just a fuckbuddy situation, there’s a connection. It’d work.” 

Lucifer sighed. “I’m nervous about having sex,” he admitted. 

“Why? Only ever had Dominant sex?” Nichole asked curiously. 

“That. . . that implies I’ve  _ had  _ sex,” Lucifer admitted, blushing furiously. 

“Wait a minute.” Nichole held up a disbelieving finger. “You, Lucifer D. Alighieri, the  _ hottest  _ lawyer Alighieri and Sons has to offer, with YOUR fucking blue eyes and sardonic smile, are a  _ virgin _ ?” 

Lucifer turned maroon and he nodded. 

“Oh you precious lamb,” she sighed. “Honestly? It’s not scary.”

“Easy for you to say!” Lucifer said, voice escalating. 

“Lucifer,” Nichole said gently, but firmly. “Why is it easy for me to say?” 

Lucifer thought for a moment. “Well, you’re a chick. It’s not like you do it in the ass,” he said lamely.

“You sweet summer child,” Nichole laughed warmly. “Listing off the things I  _ haven’t  _ done in the bedroom is a shorter list.” 

“What do I do?” Lucifer asked. He was completely lost.

“Take me back to your place,” Nichole requested. “And by midnight tonight, you’ll have the way to ask Sam to take your virginity away.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Nichole come up with a contract for Sam- and Sam likes it

It took Lucifer and Nichole a full week before the younger paralegal finally decided Lucifer was ready to ask Sam to take his virginity. There were a lot of clandestine meetings between the two, under the guises of needing documents typed up, working lunches, and Nichole insisting on using his computer because of some lame (or not so lame) excuse she would come up with, ranging from “my computer is acting up and IT is taking too long to get to it” to “Lucifer needs to oversee me typing this document up for him”. 

Sam was suspicious of the female Switch, but Lucifer knew that she was hopelessly in love with Gadreel. It was evident on her face whenever her phone buzzed and she answered it, and how when Lucifer kicked her out of his apartment the prior Thursday, she was instantly on the phone with Gadreel and asking him to come pick her up. Lucifer had to give himself a pat on the back. 

And now, a week later, their well made plans were finalized. 

“Does that look okay, boss?” Nichole was asking, looking up from Lucifer’s computer. Her plum colored lip was caught between her teeth. 

Lucifer smiled a little as he looked over the freshly printed pages he just plucked from the printer. “Perfect,” he praised. 

Nichole smiled broadly. “Good, I’m glad that I could help you out.” She stood up, smoothing out the skirt of her dress as the printer went off again. “Will you need me tomorrow night?” 

He shook his head. “I think I’ll be fine,” he said. 

“Well, in case you do, I’ll be free until seven that night,” she said. 

“Date night?” he queried. 

She nodded. “We’re going to go see It Comes At Night and see who gets scared more,” she grinned. “My money’s on him.” 

Lucifer laughed. “Alright, scram. I still need that memorandum typed up for the Daemon case.”

“Right-O, boss,” Nichole said, giving him an absentminded thumbs up as she left, peering intently at her phone. 

Lucifer watched her leave and he looked down at the document she had printed off at his request. “I hope he doesn’t mistake me for a fool,” he muttered. 

 

Sam whistled as he made his way to Lucifer's office. His boss had requested his presence for a private meeting after everyone had gone home for the night and he was more than happy to acquiesce to the request. He wondered if it had to do with what he and Nichole were planning. Nichole had even been giving him secretive looks that said something along the lines of _ I know what's going on and you don't _ or something similar. 

He couldn't tell, though. 

He knocked on the door lightly, not wanting to annoy Lucifer by just barging in. 

"Come in!" Lucifer called. 

Sam opened the door and walked inside to a sight he never thought he'd see. 

His boss, the star of more than a thousand masturbatory fantasies, his idol, and the man he had been courting for so long, was sitting at his desk. His suit jacket and silk shirt were off, as was his tie, leaving him almost vulnerable in the white T-shirt and the slacks he was wearing. The collar that Lucifer worked so hard to keep hidden underneath shirt collars and ties seemed to almost gleam in the low light of the office. 

"Oh my God," Sam whispered. 

"Let’s stick with Lucifer for now. Have a seat," Lucifer bade him, giving a small, almost shy smile. There was such  _ vulnerability  _ surrounding the Submissive he almost had to take a step back. He approached as quickly as he could and sat down in the chair directly opposite of Lucifer. 

"I'd like for you to read over this contract and see if you need it negotiated at all," Lucifer said calmly, as if he wasn't just sitting here looking like the next meal for Sam's next solo session. He opened a folder and withdrew a slim stack of papers and handed them across the desk to Sam. 

Sam took them with a mumbled thank you before looking down at the elegant font that was no doubt Nichole's doing, and as he read over the cover page of text, everything about the past week fell into place. 

The cover page stated: 

_ Contract Between Samuel L. Winchester and Lucifer D. Alighieri Upon the Matter of the Removal of the Virginity of Lucifer D. Alighieri by Samuel L. Winchester at a time most convenient to both parties  _

Sam looked up at Lucifer who had his fingers steepled together with a small smile. 

"Let me read over the contract for a little bit before we negotiate," he said with a warm smile. 

Lucifer smiled a bit brighter, a bit more mischievously. "That's more than fine by me." 

Sam flipped open the page and withdrew a red pen from his shirt pocket. 

It was going to be a long, informative, and productive meeting. 

 

The contract was negotiated in short order. It was obvious that Lucifer and Nichole had thought of every nook and cranny and idea and put it in the contract, and Sam agreed with almost every single term. The few terms that he didn't agree with were easily negotiable and Lucifer was more than willing to find a compromise. It was, after all,  _ his  _ virginity that would be lost. 

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked as Lucifer's elegant fountain pen was poised over the final page of the contract, about to sign his virginity away to the highest bidder, so to speak. 

Lucifer looked up and looked at Sam with the piercing gaze Sam's seen and been on the receiving end on so many times in the courtroom. "I am sure," he said. "I've given it much thought, it's not like I just met you. You obviously care for me and I want to see if we're compatible sexually beyond hurried handjobs in my home." 

Sam chuckled softly and nodded, looking at the Submissive kindly. "I will take the best care of you that I possibly can," Sam swore. 

Lucifer smiled and with a flourish, signed his name. Passing the contract and the pen over to Sam, he leaned back in his seat and waited. 

Sam signed his name and walked around the desk, placing his hands on the armrests of Lucifer's office chair. "I know it's a bit bold, and I know that we're not doing this until tomorrow," he said, "but would you like for me to stay the night?"

"And what good will that do?" Lucifer asked, tugging Sam closer. 

"It might assuage your fears that all I want is your body?" Sam asked playfully. "Although it is a very nice one." 

The flush that rose up in Lucifer's cheeks was absolutely adorable, and Sam smiled, leaning in to kiss Lucifer's pink cheek. 

"As long as you help me cook dinner," Lucifer bargained, "and sleep naked." 

Sam gave a hearty laugh, kissing his way to the corner of Lucifer's mouth. "That's not in the contract." 

"I don't give a fuck about the contract, it's meant for tomorrow, not tonight," Lucifer countered, kissing Sam quickly. "So yes, or no?" 

Sam smiled and kissed Lucifer a bit longer. "Yes, I'll help make dinner and sleep naked next to you." 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Lucifer get down and dirty

Lucifer woke up that morning to an empty bed and cold sheets before he sighed and looked up at the ceiling. 

Today was the day. Today, of all days, he was going to lose his virginity. To Sam. To a  _ Dominant _ . 

He never thought that this day would come. This time next year, he’d thought he was going to be wearing a dark blue collar under his shirts and talking with Michael about a possible press release. And now? Now he was going to get fucked and  _ truly _ submit for the first time in his life. 

Groaning, he got out of bed and found a note on the nightstand. He picked it up, observing Sam's loopy scrawl. 

_ Lucifer- gone out for my supplies for today. You're going to be fine, angel. I promise. I'll take good care of you. I always will, and you know that. -Sam _

Lucifer inhaled deeply and made his way to his closet, picking up a black silk robe that he liked to wear on occasion and made his way out to the kitchen. He was going to need coffee if he was going to get anywhere today. And if he was going to be awake enough to attempt to calm his nerves. 

He made the coffee in short order and contemplated putting a couple shots of nicely aged whiskey in it. He decided against it. He needed to be in full possession of his mental faculties today. 

Sam walked in to Lucifer curled up in his arm chair, wearing a silk robe and sipping coffee while watching the news. Alistair's oldest son, David, was giving a speech about how his father drugged him and strapped him to a table to perform a circumcision on him, yet when the procedure didn't go as planned, blamed him and slit down the underside of his dick. Lucifer shuddered at the description and looked up at Sam. "The. . . the fact that I'm uncircumcised doesn't bother you, does it?" he asked in a worried tone. It was tradition for men who presented as Submissive to be circumcised but Lucifer had decided against it. Now he was wondering if that was the best decision.

Sam chuckled, setting a small duffle bag down onto the floor and walking over to Lucifer to kiss him. "I like the fact that you're uncut," he whispered softly. "More room for everything to get nice and messy, means that you can dock me or I can dock you."

Lucifer shivered and kissed Sam back. "You got what you needed?" 

Sam nodded. "You're shaking," he remarked. 

"I'm nervous," Lucifer admitted. 

Sam gently removed the coffee cup from Lucifer's hands and slid into his lap. Lucifer's arms instinctively came up and around Sam's body to hold him close, smiling at the role reversal, however brief. "Why are you nervous, angel?" 

"I mean. . . I've never had  _ anything _ up there. Nothing. I have refused. Well, I've had a prostate exam done, but not like. . . not in the sex sense." Lucifer was babbling and he took a deep breath. "I just don't want to disappoint you and all. I mean, you've had so many lovers and so many times of having sex and I'm just. . . I'm just a virgin." 

“You're not 'just a virgin'," Sam chuckled, kissing Lucifer's nose playfully. "You're a _ hot _ virgin." 

Lucifer threw a bitchface up at Sam, who laughed softly. 

"I care about you, dare I say even love you," Sam continued. "I will listen to your cues, verbal and nonverbal and I promise, your pleasure is mine. That's what being a Dominant is about. It's not just a birthright -- it's a  _ responsibility _ . It's my responsibility that you are taken care of in every aspect imaginable. And that could be restricted to the bedroom or not. That's up to you. And it doesn't have to be the two of us always having me Dom and you sub. You can always Dom me. You remember the shower?" 

Lucifer gave a dreamy smile. "I do," he said. 

"I'd want you even if you weren't a virgin," Sam said. "I've had good sex with virgins and bad sex with people I've slept with a thousand times. What matters is that we both enjoy it. Because if one of us doesn't truly enjoy it . . . well, that'd be like rape, now wouldn't it?" 

Lucifer gave this some thought. "I suppose you're right," he admitted. 

"And what fun is rape?" Sam asked with a shrug. "If you don't enjoy it, then I won't. So all I ask, Lucifer, is this: that you're open with me, honest with me, and that you communicate those things to me. If you're not comfortable with it, then tell me, okay?" 

Lucifer nodded. "Okay," he said, almost squaring his shoulders. 

"Tell me your safe word," Sam urged him gently. 

"Cage," Lucifer said automatically. 

Sam smiled. "Good, angel," he praised, leaning in for a soft kiss, chasing bitter coffee across Lucifer's lips. 

Lucifer sighed, reaching up to cup the back of Sam's head, melting into the kiss. The kiss reaffirmed everything that Sam said-- that he'd take care of him, that he'd listen to him, everything. 

"Are you ready?" Sam asked, slowly withdrawing from Lucifer's lips. 

"Yes," Lucifer answered. Maybe not completely, but he was ready to explore. Sam would take care of him. Sam would love him the way he needed to. 

Huh. He wasn’t sure where that thought came from, but as Sam rose from his lap to go get the duffle bag by the door, Lucifer watched him, waiting to take him to bed. He admired the other man in dark blue jeans and a simple white polo and he licked his lips. He hoped to get his hands on Sam's cock again. 

When Sam rejoined him, Lucifer took his hand and lead him to the bedroom, heart pounding in his chest and when the door closed behind them, he flipped the lights off. The natural sunlight streamed in from the open curtains and a light breeze from outside blew in as if to greet them. 

"I can't wait to taste every inch of your skin," Sam breathed in Lucifer's ear, running soothing hands up and down Lucifer's torso and kissing the skin just below his ear. "And I can't wait until you're wanton and begging."

Lucifer tilted his head back and let out a moan as Sam kissed up and down his neck, skipping over his collar. "Yeah?" he whispered. "You're going to have to earn that, Sam." 

"Like I'd expect anything less from you," Sam teased playfully. "Come on. Come to the bed so I can get you all nice and relaxed so when I slide right into your tight virgin hole, you're so relaxed you won't feel anything until I drill you into the mattress." 

Lucifer shivered as he was brought over to the bed and sat down onto it, Sam looking at him as if he was the Hope Diamond. He's fairly certain Sam was thinking he was like a precious jewel.

Sam reached into his duffle bag, sitting on the ground by the bed where he had dropped it while Lucifer got the lights, and pulled out the soft, silk rope that they had agreed on. He showed it to Lucifer, showing the baby blue rope and Lucifer swallowed, nodding his consent, mouth dry. He had always known, deep down, that he had a thing for bondage and being tied up but had never really experienced it at all. Never really saw the need to. Not to mention, it's a bit hard to stroke one's cock when one's hands are tied up. 

Sam gently slipped the robe off of Lucifer's body, sharing a soft kiss that relaxed the Submissive as the silk was gently removed from skin and sheets. He softly pressed Lucifer backwards until they were laying on top of each other. The feel of cotton and denim on Lucifer’s highly attuned skin made his skin prickle as he wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, tugging the Dominant closer and urging the kiss to become something deeper, more primal than what Sam had been doing this morning thus far. 

Sam chuckled and drew away from Lucifer's lips with a reprimanding nip to the plump pink lower lip. "Patience, baby, I'll get there," he said. He reached up behind him and gently grabbed Lucifer's wrists, drawing them away from his neck. "Do you want them tied apart, or together?" he asked seriously. 

Lucifer gave it adequate thought, even though he could feel his cock thickening impatiently against his stomach and felt like squirming underneath Sam to get him to hurry up. But it was a valid question. "Together," Lucifer answered finally. "Please." 

"Such a polite little angel," Sam cooed to him as he put Lucifer's right wrist over his left and tied them together in a pretty little knot, making sure that there was a quick release, before pressing them over Lucifer's head. "Comfortable?" he asked. 

Lucifer squirmed, testing how much room he had to move and how loose or tight the knot was before nodding. "Yes," he confirmed. The knot was tight enough that he wasn't going to escape easily, but loose enough to allow breathing room. 

"Good," Sam said, tying his wrists to the bedframe, leaving enough slack so Lucifer could move before kissing around the top of Lucifer's collar. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you next?" he asked. 

"No," Lucifer murmured. 

"I'm going to taste every. Single. Inch of you," Sam breathed. "See what makes you squirm, what makes you moan, what makes you scream my name until your voice is hoarse." 

Lucifer couldn't help it, he gave out a little whimper of need. 

"I know, baby," Sam soothed. "Don't worry, it'll be good for you." 

Lucifer took a deep breath and tried to relax into the bed, letting Sam's lips do what they wanted. 

Sam took his time to kiss down Lucifer's neck and chest, stopping at nipples the color of cherry blossoms in the spring. He gave a wicked, sardonic smile before licking the tip of the right one. 

Lucifer's back arched up and he gave a loud moan as his hands clenched into fists and he strained against his bonds. 

"Oh, we like that?" Sam asked, almost as if he was surprised. Lucifer threw him a glare that didn't last long before Sam leaned back down and took the whole nipple into his mouth. 

"FUCK!" Lucifer cried out. His legs spread apart underneath Sam on their own accord. They wrapped around Sam’s legs, trapping the Dominant with Lucifer’s feet on top of his calves, pointing his toes down. 

Sam gave a little hum of satisfaction as he gently sucked at the nipple, getting it shiny and red with his spit before withdrawing from Lucifer and smirking down at him. "What?" he asked innocently. 

Lucifer's glare was ruined by the headiness in his eyes and the quickness in his breath. He was almost on the verge of begging for more. 

"Yeah, you liked that," Sam teased before leaning down and giving the other nipple the same treatment. 

Lucifer gave a strangled cry and bucked his hips underneath Sam. His cock brushed against the harsh denim of Sam's jeans and he whimpered, both in pain and in pleasure. He needed Sam to be unclothed, if only so he could feel Sam's skin touching his. "Please," he choked out. 

"Please what, angel?" Sam asked, smacking his lips as if he’d finished a tasty treat instead of Lucifer's nipples. 

"Clothes, off," Lucifer managed to request. 

Sam cocked his head to the side, smirking a little. "Your clothes are off, angel," he said sweetly.

"Yours, please," Lucifer whined, bucking his hips and groaning at the feel of denim. 

"Aahh, it's mine you want off." Sam smiled as if he was the cat who caught the canary and slowly removed himself from Lucifer's body, gliding off the bed to remove his clothes. "Since you asked nicely," he murmured as he unbuttoned the polo before pulling the shirt up and over his head. Lucifer's breath hitched as he watched miles of golden, tanned, Adonis-like skin come into view. 

Thumbing open the top of his jeans, Sam teased the zipper down, making intense eye contact with Lucifer. Lucifer's eyes were more focused on the dark chestnut treasure trail that came into view, knowing what lay at the end. 

Sam shimmied out of his jeans and kicked them off, revealing that he had left the apartment to go back to his place commando. Lucifer groaned, licking his lips as he looked at Sam's hard cock, standing proud and tall. 

He wasn’t sure how it was going to fit in his ass, but he couldn't wait. 

"Sam," he whined. 

"I'm right here, baby," Sam soothed, getting back into bed and covering Lucifer's face in kisses. Both Dominant and Submissive revelled silently in the skin on skin contact as Lucifer tried to catch Sam's kisses, rutting against him needily. 

"Patience, love," Sam murmured. "I got you." 

"I need you," Lucifer admitted. His basest desires were showing through in the most open, vulnerable way.  

"I know," Sam cooed. "And you'll have me. In every sense possible. But I need for you to be patient, okay?" 

"Patience is for saints, and a saint I am not," Lucifer grumbled. 

"Are you going to be good for me, angel?" Sam asked, and Lucifer saw him reaching for his crop and he groaned softly. 

"I never promised to be good," Lucifer told him. 

Sam chuckled. "Touché. Just be still, don't rut. There'll be plenty of time for rutting later." 

"I wanna rut now," Lucifer pouted. 

"In a bit, Lucifer," Sam said, tone stern but not unkind. 

Lucifer pouted, making his eyes go round and doe like. 

"Puppy dog eyes don't work on me, baby," Sam laughed, kissing Lucifer's lips. A mistake on the Dominant's part, as the Submissive saw an opening and took it.

Lucifer's legs wrapped up and around Sam's waist and held him fast as he rolled his hips, groaning as he felt Sam's cock fill out more against his belly and he moaned, chasing the high.

"Lucifer!" Sam admonished through a moan. He sat up and disentangled Lucifer's legs from his waist and pinned them down. "I warned you," he reminded the Submissive before grabbing his crop and giving Lucifer's right inner thigh a hard smack. 

Lucifer gasped. The pain from the implement was there but  _ holy shit _ , he wasn't expecting the pleasure that went with it. 

Sam chuckled at the reaction and ran his crop over the solid pink square he left on Lucifer's thigh. "Did you like that, angel?" he asked softly. 

Lucifer bit his lip and gave a little nod, turning pinkish red. He didn't expect to, but hell yes, he did. His cock jumped, giving a little bead of precum that peeped out from behind the folds of Lucifer's foreskin. 

Sam's crop traveled upwards and trailed up Lucifer's cock. Lucifer took a deep breath, watching Sam's eyes calculate and assess as the leather snagged the dollop.

When the crop fell away from Lucifer's cock, covered in his small bit of release, Lucifer breathed easier; but that easy breathing didn't last long as he watched Sam bring the precum up to his lips and ran his tongue along the smooth leather, licking it away with a hum of satisfaction. 

"Sweet," Sam murmured. "Someone must eat a lot of fruits. Which is funny, because I know my boss likes his tacos, Chinese, and subs." 

Lucifer scowled. "They're called  _ hoagies _ ," he snarked. 

Sam smirked before bringing the crop down onto Lucifer's other thigh, making him moan. "Watch your tone," Sam murmured softly. 

Lucifer groaned and threw his head back in frustration. 

"Slow and steady wins the race," Sam murmured. "Just relax. I have you. You're not going anywhere. No one will ever see you like this. Just me." 

Lucifer took a deep breath, ready to retort, but let it out in a slow exhale. He knew Sam was right, knew his snark and impatience was from him being nervous about submitting, about losing his virginity. He trusted Sam. He really did. 

He just needed to relax. 

"What do you need, baby?" Sam asked. 

Lucifer thought about this for a few brief moments, closing his eyes and arching his back to inhale and exhale. "I want touch," he whispered. "I wanna be touched and held and I want you to move  _ quicker _ ." 

Sam gave a soft laugh and leaned down to kiss Lucifer. "Can I get you to lift your knees to your chest and keep them spread for me? Once I get settled you can rest your legs on my shoulders. I'll be touching you the entire time, don't worry baby." 

Lucifer gave a moan. More teasing. Oh well. He nodded and did as he was requested to do, lifting his spread legs and bending them up to his chest, giving a soft groan. He felt so  _ exposed _ , so  _ vulnerable _ , and the way Sam was looking at him made him shiver. 

Sam shimmied down and rested on his stomach, nosing at Lucifer's balls as the Submissive's legs went to rest over his shoulders. Cupping his ass and tugging him closer, Sam licked his lips and gave a brief smile up to Lucifer before resting his chin on the mattress and giving a lick to the furled hole. 

"Sa-AM!" Lucifer cried out, grabbing the silk rope keeping him bound in an effort to ground himself. Holy fuck, he hadn’t expected Sam's tongue on his sensitive hole and he hadn’t expected it to feel so fucking  _ good _ . 

"You like that, angel? I'm going to get you nice and wet and open before I fuck you," Sam soothed, rubbing Lucifer's trembling legs gently as he returned to softly licking the dark pink hole in front of him. 

Lucifer mewled and moaned as Sam patiently, gently, firmly licked him open. He kept thrusting his hips down onto Sam's face, gasping whenever Sam's hand came down on the side of his ass. 

Sam sighed as he poked his head up, licking his lips after several long minutes of licking Lucifer and pressing his tongue inside. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured. "Like a work of messy, splayed art."

Lucifer groaned, rocking his hips down. "I bet I'd look better on your cock," he challenged, his dominance surging to the forefront. 

Sam laughed happily. "Well, you'll be on my cock soon, angel," he murmured. "I promise you that. You will be. But I'm not going to hurt you." 

"You certainly seem to enjoy spanking my ass," Lucifer snarked. 

"And  _ you _ certainly seem to enjoy it when I do," Sam sassed back. "Maybe one day I'll bend you over the bed and spank your ass until it's shiny and red. Like a cherry. Make you feel it for days." 

Lucifer squirmed. How was Sam hitting all his hidden kinks? It's not fair. Not fair at all. "I wonder if you'd like yours the same way?" he asked. 

Sam winked. "Maybe, if you're a good boy, I'll let you spank mine. With your crop." 

"Oh  _ fuck _ yes," Lucifer breathed. "I bet it'd hurt just the right amount." 

Sam smirked and reached over to grab the bottle of lube that Michael had chucked at them a few months before. He then looked at Lucifer seriously. "I know it wasn't mentioned in the contract but. . . it's your choice. Do you want me to wear a condom or not?" 

How did both he  _ and  _ Nichole forget to add condoms into the contract? Lucifer gave it some thought before looking up at Sam. "You're clean, right?" he asked. 

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I just got tested two weeks ago. I'm clean." 

Lucifer nodded. "Then bare. I want to feel all of you. I  _ need _ to feel all of you," he said. 

Sam smiled and leaned over to kiss Lucifer. "Don't tell your brother," he teased. 

"I'd kill Michael if he tried to harm you over not using a condom," Lucifer grumbled. “Especially if it was my decision to forgo the condom.”

Sam smirked and opened the bottle of lube. Lucifer's eyes were trained on the clear liquid making a sticky mess all over four of Sam's fingers. 

"You're going to fit four?" Lucifer asked in awe.

"You've seen how thick I am. You've held my cock in your hand," Sam reminded him. "I'm not small, and I'm not going to hurt you." 

Lucifer huffed impatiently. 

"Do I need to take the crop to your nipples?" Sam asked, reaching for the crop with the hand not covered in lube. 

Lucifer swallowed before smirking. "Maybe you do," he challenged. 

Sam's crop flew into the air, the leather square landing neatly first on one nipple, then the other. 

Lucifer gave a loud cry and writhed in his ties. "FUCK!" 

"Good fuck or bad fuck?" Sam asked, patting Lucifer's outer thigh with the crop. 

"I can't tell," Lucifer mumbled in embarrassment. "Both."

Sam gave a low laugh. "Legs up again, it'll make it easier," he murmured. 

Lucifer brought his legs up into that vulnerable position again, and he whined at the feeling of the cold lube touching his entrance. 

"Relax for me, baby," Sam soothed, running the crop up and down Lucifer's side. "I'm right here." 

"Touch me," Lucifer whimpered. "Please." 

"Since you asked nicely," Sam said. He laid the crop down next to Lucifer and used his hand instead, large fingers splaying over his chest and rubbing soothing circles into Lucifer's skin. "Just relax for me, okay? I have you." 

Lucifer took a deep breath and closed his eyes, going through breathing exercises as Sam's finger gently circled around his hole, waiting until Lucifer was pliant enough to enter. 

"That's it, angel, such a good boy for me," Sam whispered. "I'm right here. I won't hurt you."

Lucifer rocked his hips down in a nonverbal cue for more, and Sam gently pressed into him. 

Lucifer wrinkled his nose and squirmed. 

"Pain?" Sam asked gently. 

"No, just. . . discomfort," Lucifer admitted. "That passes, right?" 

"It does," Sam murmured. "Just stay nice and relaxed for me okay, angel?" 

"Okay," Lucifer said, taking another deep breath and relaxing further. 

Sam's finger twisted and began pumping lightly and Lucifer's eyes flew open, meeting Sam's dark, hooded hazel ones. 

"Yes, angel?" Sam prompted. 

"Oh. . ." was all Lucifer could say. It felt  _ good. _ Like really good. He was surprised and gave a little moan when Sam pressed with a second finger and it joined the first. 

"Yeah, I know," Sam murmured. "Just stay calm and relaxed for me. Ride on the pleasure that you're feeling." 

Lucifer took another deep breath before groaning loudly as Sam's fingers began scissoring inside of him, opening him up further. 

"Does it always-- ah!-- feel like this?" Lucifer asked, thrusting his hips down to beg for more.

"Feel like what?" Sam asked, scissoring and starting to work his third finger into Lucifer. 

"Like you're being torn apart and yet being put back together," Lucifer whined, rocking his hips down. "More, Sam, please." 

"As you wish." Sam leaned down and latched lips and teeth onto Lucifer's collarbone, sucking viciously as the third finger joined the fray and Lucifer cried out in pleasure. He was certain he was going to tear the silk rope binding him to the bed as Sam continued to suck a mark into Lucifer's skin. 

"Fuck, Sam, more, please, I need more!" Lucifer whimpered. 

Sam's fingers brushed against something inside of Lucifer and he gave a very loud cry, trying to relax so he didn't cum too early. 

"Angel?" 

"FUCK!" Lucifer was sweating, pooling in the hollow of his throat, and his cock was throbbing between him and Sam. "Fuck, again, please, again." 

"Do what again?" Sam asked. "This?" He pressed the same area again, massaging it. 

There were tears of pleasure and need in Lucifer's eyes as he shouted, still trying to keep himself from cumming too soon. "YES!" 

"Oh. . . I found your prostate," Sam noted, massaging it still. 

Lucifer whimpered and whined, writhing in his ties as his eyes squeezed shut. 

"Are you close, baby?" Sam asked softly. 

"Yes, yes, please, fuck me, fuck me full," Lucifer babbled, delirious in the pleasure he was experiencing. "I need it, need it, Sam,  _ please _ !" 

"I"m not done stretching you," Sam soothed. "Patience." 

"I will  _ cum _ and there's no way I can edge this off," Lucifer informed him. He knew he couldn't, not with the way his thighs trembled and the tightness in his groin. 

Sam raised a brow. 

"Screw having four fingers in my ass, three is enough, now  _ get in me, _ " Lucifer commanded, mustering every ounce of his Dominant persona to get the words out. It was a difficult feat, his mind hazy in pleasure as he tried to muster all that he had. 

Sam growled low in his throat and ripped the fingers out of Lucifer's ass. Lucifer whined at the empty feeling but Sam was moving quickly, quicker than Lucifer had anticipated. Within a few short moments, Lucifer's ankles were up by his head, pinned there by Sam's strong hands. Lucifer hoped that there would be bruises -- it certainly felt like it from the way Sam was gripping him. The blunt head of his cock pressed almost cruelly at Lucifer's entrance. 

"Look at me, Lucifer," Sam commanded. 

Lucifer looked up at Sam, blinking away pleasure sparks from behind his eyelids as he gazed into dark, almost black lust-filled eyes. 

Sam pressed in slowly, gently, breaching Lucifer in a few short thrusts. 

Lucifer screamed in pleasure. It felt so good, and Sam wasn't even halfway in yet. 

"So pretty," Sam breathed before apparently losing what little control he had and slamming the rest of the way into Lucifer. 

Lucifer screamed again, resting his legs on Sam's shoulders, clenching down. "Fuck me," he begged. 

"With pleasure," Sam snarled, drawing back so only the tip was inside of Lucifer before slamming in again. 

Lucifer clutched at the silk rope and the sheets underneath his hands as his back bowed off the bed, surrendering to Sam completely as the Dominant pounded mercilessly into him. 

"I wanted this to be so sweet, gentle, even paced so I could take care of you," Sam breathed in his ear. "But you didn't want that, did you? You wanted to be  _ taken _ , to be loved with harsh lips and words and being pounded within an inch of your life." 

Lucifer whined and panted, feeling his cock throb even harder. 

"I guess that's what I get for wanting a partner that's just as Dominant as me," Sam breathed. "Next time I think I'm going to start you off with a spanking. That should get you pliant and obedient enough for me to go nice and gentle."

Lucifer groaned and whined. "Sam, Sam, fuck, yes, more, please!" he begged. 

"You make me lose control," Sam breathed. "And I wouldn't want it any other way." 

Lucifer ducked his head into Sam's shoulder and whimpered. He was so close, so close, everything was swirling and in a midst of pleasure and he could already tell this would be his most violent orgasm ever. 

"Are you close?" Sam breathed in his ear.

"Uh huh," Lucifer whimpered. "Fuck, yes, so close, Sam, please." 

"I can tell," Sam murmured. "You're shaking and trembling like a leaf and you're aching to fly apart. Fly apart, baby. Cum for me. I've got you."

Lucifer couldn't help but obey the command, and he came hard, screaming his pleasure loudly, forgetting about his neighbors possibly being home as his back arched up and he covered his and Sam's stomachs with his release, completely untouched. 

"Gorgeous, fuck, you're beautiful," Sam gasped. He was close, Lucifer could tell, and he clenched down as another wave of pleasure came over him from feeling Sam's cock drag over his prostate.

It took Sam a few more thrusts, until Lucifer had relaxed a bit and had mostly melted into the mattress before he came hard, and Lucifer moaned lazily at the warm feeling.

Sam collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily as he kissed around the dark red mark that he had left earlier. He got his breath back fairly quickly and he looked at Lucifer's closed eyes and his relaxed face. "Hey angel," he whispered. "How are you feeling?" 

Lucifer gave a low groan of pleasure and tried to blink his eyes open. 

"Here, let me get out of you so I can clean you up and untie you," Sam soothed, running a gentle hand along Lucifer's torso. He pushed himself up and pulled out of Lucifer gently, shushing him whenever the Submissive made a noise of discomfort until he was out. His cock hung only at half mast, but both men ignored it as Sam sat down next to Lucifer and undid the silk rope binding him to the bed. "There we go, shh, angel," he murmured when Lucifer fussed. He picked him up and sat down, putting Lucifer in his lap before picking up a wrist and beginning to massage it. 

"Why 're you doin' tha'?" Lucifer slurred sleepily. 

Sam chuckled and kissed the top of Lucifer's head. "So your muscles don't cramp. They were tied up there for a while, I don't want you to be in pain.” 

Lucifer gave a hum of contentment and nosed in Sam's neck. The Dominant's scent soothed him, enough that he could relax slightly and close his eyes. 

His rest was disrupted a few minutes and two full arm massages later when Sam gently laid him back on the bed and he gave a petulant grunt. 

"I'm fairly certain you don't want to be sleeping with drying cum on your stomach, angel," Sam laughed softly. "I'll be right back, I promise." 

Lucifer watched through lidded eyes as Sam left the bedroom to go to the bathroom and he sighed happily, dozing off. He couldn't help it -- that was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he just wanted to bask in the afterglow. 

Sam came back shortly and gently wiped away the mess on their stomachs, taking great care to also tend to the small welts left behind by his crop. "How're you doing?" he asked. 

"Good," Lucifer hummed. "This is nice."

"Isn't it?" Sam smiled. He crawled back into bed and held a glass to Lucifer's lips, cupping the back of his head. "Drink some water, and we'll talk." 

Lucifer drank the water slowly, sighing when it was taken away from his lips and he smiled up at Sam. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome. So, how'd you like it?" Sam asked, putting them both under the covers and snuggling close. 

"I liked it," Lucifer hummed. "All of it."

"Good," Sam said. "The stuff I said during it. . ."

"I want to try some of them," Lucifer smiled. "Only with you though." 

Sam smiled and kissed him sweetly. 

"And I want to fuck you," Lucifer said after they broke. 

"Of course," Sam smiled. "But for now, sleep." 

"That I can do," Lucifer sighed, resting his head on Sam's strong chest. 

He was asleep before he could hear Sam whisper, "Sleep well, angel." 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nichole and Lucifer come up with a surprise for Sam

Five months later, and Lucifer felt himself become a more relaxed person in general. His overall demeanor had improved, and there was a bit of a pep in his step. He knew the reason for that, most likely. Sleeping with Sam had definite benefits. Lucifer even noticed an improvement in his work performance.

They had sex almost every weekend now, and they would switch it up. Sometimes it would be Sam at the mercy of Lucifer, both of them lasting hours; or it'd be the way they had it before, with Lucifer at Sam's mercy. They had both tried so many different things over the past five months, even Nichole was a bit scandalized by the variety of deplorable acts they had done in such a short amount of time. 

Sure, there were a few fights, a few times of safe words being shouted but all in all, they had an amazing sex life and they were brought closer together as a result. 

Lucifer sighed as he looked up from his computer to see Nichole come in with a small gift bag. 

"For you," she said, placing it on his desk. 

Smiling, Lucifer reached inside and pulled out a copy of her book. "It's published?" 

"I'm rather surprised myself, I thought I'd be waiting another four months for it," Nichole said. 

Lucifer smiled at the cover. 

"It's signed, too," Nichole said proudly. 

"Thank you, Nichole, this is a precious gift," he said, putting it back into the bag and setting it down behind his desk. 

"And now, a less exciting present of those case files you wanted," Nichole said, handing him the folders in her arms. 

"How are things with you and Gadreel?" Lucifer asked, taking the folders and setting them in front of him but not opening them. 

"Awesome," Nichole said. "He and I are. . . we're good. I think he's thinking of proposing." 

"What makes you say that?" Lucifer asked. 

Nichole smiled. "I caught him snagging my old promise ring out of my jewelry box the other day. I know he's taking it in for sizing purposes." 

Lucifer smiled. "Well, let me know when he does," he said. He sighed. "I want to marry Sam," he admitted. He had been thinking about this for a couple of months, and had decided it would be the best decision. 

"So propose," Nichole shrugged. 

"But that's. . ." Lucifer trailed off.

"Lucifer, you're a Submissive who walks as a Dominant, and it'd mean a lot to Sam if you proposed over him," Nichole said. "It's you telling him that you want this, that this isn't just. . ." 

"That this is my decision, not his," Lucifer finished. 

Nichole nodded. "And it's also like, the two of you don't have a traditional relationship anyways. Sam's only your Dominant in the bedroom, never in the outside world and sometimes he's not even the Dom. You propose to him." 

"How?" Lucifer asked. 

"I've got an idea," Nichole said, leaning over the desk and looking at him dead in the face. "Now listen, this is going to be simple. . ."

 

Sam sighed as he raised his hand to knock on the door to Lucifer's office. There was another after hours meeting, something Sam both enjoyed and hated. Hated because sometimes all he wanted to do was go home and curl up on the couch (today was one of those days) and enjoyed it because usually Lucifer was doing something to surprise him when he asked for an after hours meeting -- like last week, when Lucifer noticed the Dominant was getting anxious so he called him in for an after hours meeting and proceeded to blow Sam on Lucifer's luxurious office chair. 

"Come in!" Lucifer bade. 

Sam opened the door and walked into a scene he never thought he'd see. In fact, not many people would see such a sight, and despite being the only one besides Lucifer in the building, he couldn't help but nearly slam the door shut behind him. 

On Lucifer's desk, there was his collar, the D- ring unhooked as if to put a tag there. Next to the circle of leather was a black folder laying with the cover open, black text on white paper. On the other side of the folder lay a simple black velvet box that made Sam's heart skip a beat. 

And in front of the desk, kneeling, wearing nothing but his T-shirt and slacks, a perfect position of submission, was none other than Lucifer Alighieri. In front of Lucifer, there laid the black leather crop that he carried as a sign of his pseudo-status. 

This was Lucifer's way of proposing to Sam. Of saying he wanted to spend the rest of his life as a strange Switch combination, with one being more Submissive and the other more Dominant. 

This was Lucifer's declaration of _ love _ , and Sam beamed. 

Walking over, he kneeled down in front of Lucifer and tilted his chin up, gazing into hopeful blue eyes. 

"Let's look that marriage contract over, then, shall we?" he asked with a smile. 

"Yes, Sam," Lucifer said, leaning forward to kiss his now-fiancé. 


	24. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a year later.

Lucifer smiled as he looked at the conference room table full of the lawyers at his dispense. Next to him, Nichole typed furiously away at a keyboard, looking over information. 

It had been six months since he and Sam had gotten married. The fact that Lucifer was a Submissive had been quietly leaked, but no one had really cared, and so while Lucifer didn't openly wear his collar, he did wear his wedding ring and could be seen kissing Sam on numerous occasions. 

Nichole was engaged to Gadreel and had been for the past three months. They were going to be married in another month, and Lucifer knew that she was trying to get all the information he needed for several cases up before she and Gadreel went on a month and a half long honeymoon. 

"Alright so the sheets in front of you are your legal assignments," Lucifer explained. "Those are your top priority cases, and I hope you do them justice. I know you all will." 

The three Submissives, four Switches, and the solitary Dominant all nodded their heads. 

"If you need any information about case laws and precedents and need your legal documentation written up, the only paralegal off limits is Miss Sterling here," Lucifer went on, "and that's because she's mine." 

Everyone laughed while Nichole looked up from her work, not even pausing in her typing, and stuck her tongue out at Lucifer before returning her eyes to the screen in front of her. 

"Is that everything?" someone asked. "I have my client coming in ten." 

"Yes, that's everything. Go get those convictions and plea bargains." Lucifer clapped his hands and shook with everyone as they filed out, Nichole's clacking filling their ears. 

Sam was the last to leave and he leaned in, smirking. "You're adorable when you think you're in charge," he teased lightly. 

"Baby, I  _ am _ in charge," Lucifer laughed, catching one of Sam's hands and kissing the back of it lightly. 

Sam tapped Lucifer's shirt collar, making sure that he hit the forest green collar underneath. "Only while we're in the office," he hummed.

"Didn't I just give you orders?" Lucifer asked in a mock disapproving tone. "Get to it! Pip pip!" 

He heard Nichole snort in amusement.

"Can I get a kiss before I go?" Sam asked with a smile. "It's a long way until lunch."

"Sam, it's literally three hours from now," Nichole groaned. 

Lucifer ignored his now personal paralegal and leaned into Sam's embrace, giving him a sweet kiss. He yelped when he felt Sam's hand grab his ass firmly. 

"Y'know," Lucifer said as Sam withdrew from his personal space and began heading to the door, "You can just  _ ask _ if you can grab my ass. Like a normal person would." 

"But that's boring," Sam said, winking. He stopped at the door and smiled at his beautiful, loving, affectionate, Dominant of a Submissive of a husband. "I love you." 

Lucifer sighed and smiled affectionately at his amazing husband, the man who said he wouldn't mind it if Lucifer acted like a Dominant, even in the bedroom. "I love you too. . . Sir." 

Sam gave a low growl and snapped his teeth playfully at Lucifer before leaving. 

Lucifer smirked to himself as he made his way to his desk. 

"Do you know how incredibly diabetic the two of you are?" Nichole asked, not looking at Lucifer as she typed quickly. 

Lucifer looked over at her. "Not as diabetic as you and Gadreel," he playfully teased. "Besides, I'm married. I'm allowed to be diabetic." 

Nichole stopped and looked up at Lucifer. "I'm glad he makes you happy, Luce." 

He smiled. "Ditto. Secrets are hard to keep, aren't they?" 

Nichole laughed softly. "Got a secret, can you keep it?" she sang softly. 

He turned. "Do tell." 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the fic! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this little 'verse I created.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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